


Darkness, Take My Hand

by kathyswizards



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens, Star Wars Episode VIII: The Last Jedi, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Ben Organa, Canto Bight, Coup d'état, Dark Side/Light Side alliance, Eventual Fluff, F/M, Force Bond (Star Wars), Gray Jedi, Gray Jedi Kylo Ren, Gray Jedi Rey, Greylo, Hux needs to die, Luke Doesn't Die, Luke gets redeemed, Post-Star Wars: The Last Jedi, Post-TLJ, Prince Ben Solo, Slow Burn Rey/Kylo Ren, Star Wars: The Last Jedi alternate plot, Trust Issues, but some real, sorry no smut, suggestive scenes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-03
Updated: 2019-04-06
Packaged: 2019-04-17 17:30:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 56
Words: 200,308
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14194050
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kathyswizards/pseuds/kathyswizards
Summary: If Vice-Admiral Holdo had rammed the Raddus into Snoke’s flagship five minutes sooner, before Rey had a chance to reject Kylo Ren's offer...The Force is determined to make the galaxy whole again, however unlikely the means. Forging a bond between the dark and the light is one thing, but finding a path to trust, balance and a shared future is a lot more difficult.





	1. Flight

**Author's Note:**

> Dear Reader,
> 
> I'm having a ton of fun with this and have a lot more written, so I'll be posting new chapters regularly.
> 
> Thanks to Rian Johnson for writing THE MOST AWESOME Star Wars ever! I haven't been this excited about a story in long time.
> 
> Just one, tiny, little problem...
> 
> I have to say I was frustrated and disappointed when Rey rejected Kylo's offer in the throne room-- and in such a brutal way! On the other hand, I can understand why she did. Aside from Kylo's cold-hearted refusal to stop the massacre of the rebels, she isn't sure enough yet in herself and her powers to counterbalance him. And Kylo, after finally ridding himself of the malign influence that twisted and poisoned his entire life, isn't in a position to listen to anyone else... no matter how good their intentions. 
> 
> Both of them have a long way to go to get to a place where they can trust each other and truly work and be together. This fic is how I see them getting there.
> 
> I hope you enjoy!

##  **_Part_ _1_ **

 

 

_He’s our last hope_ , Rey had told Luke.

Now Ben stood before her, holding out his hand, asking her to join him…in ruling the galaxy.

Disappointment crushed her, closed her throat. She stared at this man she thought she’d come to know so well, the shining glimpse of whose future had brought her to the _Supremacy_ , the deadly heart of enemy territory.

He took a step closer, as if unable to bear her silence, his black-gloved hand trembling.

“ _Please_ ,” he whispered, his voice shaking as much as his hand.

_It’s not Ben_ , she told herself savagely. _It’s Kylo Ren. It’s always been Kylo Ren._

But that “please,” the look in his eyes made her hesitate, balanced on an edge of indecision.

Her hand came up…

The deck heaved under her feet, flung her at him. He lurched backward as she tumbled into him, and the world exploded.

The whole ship shuddered violently. Bulkheads buckled, spitting sparks. Emergency claxons wailed, a sound that drove nails into her head. One of the massive overhead lights crashed down, spinning and screeching across the deck. Kylo went down, his mouth opening in a shout she couldn’t hear.

Something slammed into her from behind, driving her into darkness.

* * *

Sunlight shined on a grassy hillside. In the distance, a lake shimmered, the glittering spires of a city beyond. A breeze smelling of green, growing things whispered in Rey’s ear. Ben’s arm encircled her, his hand held hers.

Putting his chin on top of her head, he gusted a long sigh. “I’m glad you’re here with me.”

She leaned back against him. “So am I. It seems impossible.”

“Between the two of us, nothing is impossible.”

She’d never felt so content. As if the universe was whole, balanced, complete. She closed her eyes, reveling in the feel of the sun on her face, in the warmth of Ben’s arms.

He squeezed her hand. “But we can’t stay here.”

Frowning, she turned to look at him. “Why not?”

“Don’t you hear it? Something’s happened to the ship.”

“What ship?”

But she _did_ hear it. The air was filled with the moans and screams of a beast convulsing as it died, with the smell of burning wire and charred flesh and ozone. Darkness spread like ink across the cloud-streaked sky behind Ben.

He looked up in alarm, then threw her to the ground under him. “Stay down!”

Rey blinked her eyes open—when had she closed them? Hill and grass and sunlight were gone. Jumping fires slashed red darkness. A throbbing pain seared at the back of her head. A heavy weight lay on her, pinning her to the shuddering deck. A gloved hand held hers, an arm encircled her. Someone lay on her, shielding her from a rain of sparks and hot debris. With a groan, she tried to roll free. Both hand and arm tightened on her.

“No. Please…” a voice said in her ear.

Ben. No, not Ben. Kylo Ren. His grip tightened even more.

She began to struggle. It was like trying to escape the restraints that had bound her earlier.

“Rey, no…”

Kylo wrenched upright with a gasp. He blinked rapidly as if trying to place himself. She felt the frantic rise and fall of his chest against her back as he clutched her. He let go her hand to steady himself against the heaving deck, taking in the chaos around them in a swift glance.

“Are you all right?” he said.

Her head swam. She touched the back and winced, meeting the stickiness of blood and a rising lump. _All right?_ “I—”

He surged to his feet, pulling her with him. Blood sheened the unscarred side of his face, matted the hair at his temple. The torn shoulder of his tunic showed a vicious gash beneath.

“Can you stand?” he said. “We have to get out of here.”

She swayed in his grasp, confused by more than the blow to her head. The crumpled forms of Snoke’s Praetorian Guard lay scattered around them. The draperies behind his throne billowed with flame, shedding fiery wisps over the pieces of his severed body. Another convulsion shook the ship. Yes, they definitely needed to get out of here.

She nodded, squinting at the pain.

“Good,” he said. “Come on.”

His arm still around her, they lurched for the throne room door. He slammed the controls with a fist. It screeched partway open, then jammed. He thrust out a hand and the Force wrenched it wide. They tumbled through.

The noise was worse outside, a screaming din that drowned out the shouts and running footsteps of stormtroopers, pilots, officers, techs. Kylo pushed her ahead of him through the crowded corridors. One glance at his face and the most frantic shrank out of the way.

Smoke burned Rey’s lungs with every gasped breath. The wound on her shoulder from the Guard’s weapon seared. Her pulse pounded painfully in the lump on the back of her head. After confronting Snoke, after fighting his Guard, every running step was an agony of abused, exhausted muscles. Only adrenaline kept her going. Adrenaline and Kylo, now towing her by the arm.

They burst through a hatch that had been blasted open and into a hangar. Fleeing shadows crisscrossed the burning hulks of docked craft. Walkers lay in fiery heaps. A single shuttle stood unmarred, hatch down, ready to board. A double row of stormtroopers, blasters ready, guarded the ramp.

Kylo headed for it. Realizing exactly _how_ they’d be escaping the dying cruiser, Rey stumbled.

Kylo didn’t miss it. He abruptly turned, caught her by the shoulders. “You have to trust me.”

Panting, she looked up at him.

His grip tightened. “ _Trust me_.”

She’d trusted him when she came here, if not blindly, then at least overconfidently. Could she trust him now, after learning what he intended?

He let her go and shoved her lightsaber into her hands.

She might not trust him, but she trusted herself. Lightsaber in hand, she ran with him for the shuttle.

* * *

Kylo Ren strode into the shuttle’s command center, Rey on his heels. The pilot and co-pilot were hurrying through the takeoff sequence.

“What’s our status?” Kylo panted.

“The rebel cruiser rammed the _Supremacy_ at lightspeed, sir,” the pilot answered without turning from the controls. “Their remnants are holed up in an abandoned base on Crait. A strike force of ATs and a siege cannon have already been deployed.”

Behind him, footsteps thundered through the shuttle.

Hux burst into the command center, his usual sneer wiped away by horror and panic. “Someone has killed the Supreme Leader—!”

His eyes locked on Kylo and he stopped so quickly the guards following almost ran into him. Beside Kylo, Rey shifted her weight. She held the hilt of her lightsaber in a white-knuckled grip, prepared to sell her life dearly. Kylo smoothly stepped in front of her.

“What happened?” Hux snapped. “What is this rebel scum doing here?”

“Snoke made a miscalculation,” Kylo said.

Hux gestured, and five blasters leveled on Kylo. Kylo swept a hand through the air. Every weapon flew, slammed against the bulkhead. He clenched a fist and the blasters twisted and crumpled. Hux paled and fell back.

Kylo took a step toward him. “Snoke called you a rabid cur, but kept you because you’re useful. Are you willing to be useful to the new Supreme Leader, General Hux?”

Hux’s throat bobbed. “Yes… Yes, Supreme Leader.”

Kylo nodded once. “Good.”

The shuttle bucked and slid across the flight deck. Gouts of fire filled the forward viewport.

“We must take off now, sir,” the pilot said. “What’s our destination?”

“Crait,” Kylo said, his gaze still on Hux.

Hux only nodded at his guards, dismissing them. They slunk aft, their eyes darting between their ruined weapons and Kylo.

His thoughts were clearer than they’d been in years, no longer filled with Snoke’s insidious, incessant whispers. In his moments of unconsciousness, he’d dreamt of sunlight. Not the dream that jerked him awake night after night—his uncle’s twisted face lit by the glow of the lightsaber raised to cut him down in his sleep.

“What are your orders regarding the rebels, Supreme Leader?” Hux’s tone tried to convey confidence, but the quaver on the title betrayed him.

“How many of their transports were destroyed?”

“More than two-thirds. We estimate their numbers at no more than a few dozen.”

_More refugees than rebels, now_ , Kylo thought. “Have they made any attempt to contact us?”

“No, Supreme Leader,” Hux said. “They show every indication that they intend to resist.”

“Open a channel. Then we’ll see.”

Behind him, Rey radiated tension and worry and suspicion— _not_ trust. Belatedly, he remembered the bitter disappointment on her face: _Don’t go this way, Ben_. She never had agreed to join him, had she? He’d offered his hand, the galaxy, everything, _pleaded_ with her—

And then disaster had stepped in and thrown them together. Was this another enemy at his back, one he, himself, had armed?

The sunlight of his dream returned. A wisp of remembered words: _I’m glad you’re here with me._ Then, _So am I._

No. She was no enemy. Not for now, at least. He had to make sure it stayed that way.

* * *

Rey watched the redhaired man—Hux?

You didn’t survive on your own in a place like Jakku without learning how to read people. And this Hux would kill Kylo if he had the chance. The news of Snoke’s death had been only an excuse to try. The look on the man’s face as Kylo turned away to the comm, the way his fist clenched—his thoughts were like a poisonous cloud. Her fingers tightened on the hilt of her lightsaber.

“Channel open, sir,” the communications officer said.

A holo shimmered into existence in front of Kylo. General Organa. Leia. Kylo stiffened.

Rey felt a pulse of some powerful emotion go through him. Shock? Relief? It disappeared before she could identify it. She caught her breath and bit her lip.

“Mother,” he said. “It’s been a long time.”

The sorrow on Leia’s face hurt Rey’s heart.

“I’m sure you realize your situation by now,” Kylo said. “It’s pointless to continue resisting. As new Supreme Leader of the First Order, I’m prepared to be generous.” He glanced at Rey, the briefest flick of a gaze. “Surrender, and I’ll personally guarantee your safety. Your wounded will be treated in our medical facilities.”

“Surrender!” Hux gasped in outrage.

Leia’s sorrow turned to something hard.

“Surrender,” she said. “And what then? What guarantee—besides your _personal_ one—do we have?”

“You have an advocate here,” Kylo said.

He turned and pulled Rey into the comm’s pickup range.

She stiffened in shock and horror. “Leia, I—” Her voice died.

Leia’s shoulders drooped ever so slightly. “I see. I’ll discuss it with my officers.”

“Of course,” Kylo said, bowing his head regally.

He nodded at the communications officer and the holo flickered and collapsed. Rey stood, fists clenched, trying to breathe through the pain in her chest.

“Are you insane?” Hux snarled. “Those—those _scum_ deserve no mercy, no quarter—”

Kylo’s hand whipped up. Hux flew across the cabin, slammed against the same bulkhead the blasters had.

Kylo leaned over him where he lay sprawled among the crushed blasters. “Let me give you a suggestion, _General_ Hux. Don’t question me again.”

Kylo took Rey’s arm and steered her out of the command center. She hardly noticed. What must Leia think? Seeing her standing there beside the man who murdered her husband. The man who was their enemy.

She wanted to disappear. _How_ could she ever have believed she could turn him? Oh, terrible, terrible mistake!

She tried—unsuccessfully—to jerk her arm from his black-gloved grasp. “Why did you do that?” she hissed.

“Not now,” he said.

Guards filled the cabin, their faces wearing various expressions of fear, curiosity, hostility. Kylo palmed open a door and pushed her through.

The chamber inside was spare but elegant. She barely glanced at it. She gave her arm a savage jerk. This time, he let her go, watching her with a combination of interest and wariness.

“I came to you for _help!_ ” she railed at him. “Now they’ll think I betrayed them!”

“You did help them,” he said in that maddeningly calm way of his. “We’re too strong. There are too many of us. You heard. If Hux had his way, the rebels would die to the last man—and woman.”

Tears pushed into her eyes. “That’s your mother down there! Don’t tell me you don’t care what happens to her.”

He shrugged. “I care as much as she does.”

“She _does_ care about you.”

“It doesn’t matter. It’s her choice now. She can surrender, and live. Or die.”

Rey gripped the burn on her shoulder as if that could distract from the pain of _this_. Looking at Kylo, she saw again the monster who had hunted her through the forest on Takodana.


	2. Surrender

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rey never got the chance to reject Kylo's offer after the fight in Snoke's throne room. Now the disaster that swept her up spreads wider, engulfing her friends, too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for all the kudos and the great comments! You guys made my week.
> 
> Rey doesn't put in an appearance here, but don't worry. She'll be back next week.

Leia sank into her chair, gripping the edge of the control panel to support herself. She hurt. And she was just so _tired_. The pain had been constant since the Force had enabled her to survive the icy vacuum of space. But now, it was worse.

To look at Ben’s face, and see nothing there—no fondness, no warmth, no compassion, hardly any recognition—this was what heartbreak must feel like. This crushing pain, this unbearable pressure that took her breath.

Surrender. _Is this what we’ve come to? Is this all that’s left?_

Voices babbled around her. “Where’s Luke? She was supposed to bring him!” “How did Rey fall into their hands?” “Rey would never turn! Never!”

Poe knelt by her chair. “General, this place is perfect for guerrilla warfare. We can take them out as they come through that hole they blasted in the shield. We can hide in the tunnels and get them when they try to come after us. We can plant booby traps—”

_For how long?_ Leia thought. _They’ll have us picked off in a day. Two at the most._

No, she couldn’t say that. A leader’s most important job was to inspire confidence. Not tear down hope. But despair crushed the air from her body.

She pushed the heel of her hand against her chest, took a steadying breath. “Good. Any other ideas?”

Sergeant Sharp said, “We might be able to—”

A strange buzzing filled her ears, drowned out the sergeant’s voice. The pain in her chest and back crowded out awareness of anything else. She tried to raise her arm, to speak, to breathe, but her body wouldn’t respond.

The world slid sideways into darkness.

* * *

Poe caught Leia as she slumped and slid out of her chair. There was dead silence for an instant, then everyone erupted.

“General Organa!”

“What happened? What’s wrong with her?”

“She’s collapsed! Get a medpac!”

Her face was grey, her lips blue. He pressed his fingers to her throat. Her pulse felt like the flutter of a dying bird’s wings. Her skin was cool and clammy.

Someone hurried forward with the medpac, flipped open a medical scanner. Poe couldn’t even look to see who it was, every bit of him focused on the horror of what was happening to the woman in his arms.

“It’s her heart,” said the medic—Sergeant Sharp.

Cries of dismay sounded around him. Someone started crying. Someone else kept saying, over and over, “She can’t die. She can’t.”

_No. She can’t. There’s nothing left of us if she does_.

Poe had been watching her ever since the First Order attacked the Rebel base on D’Qar. How she’d looked a little older, a little more worn with every setback—the massacre of the fleeing transports. Vice-Admiral Holdo’s sacrifice. Barricading themselves in this mine, only a handful of them left, with no hope of aid or reinforcements—

_The First Order shouldn’t have known about the transports!_ he railed to himself. _They never should’ve known!_

They _wouldn’t_ have known, if not for Finn and Rose’s ill-fated mission. The mission _he’d_ set in motion…

He let the medic take Leia from him. “Open a channel! Get that hutt-slime Ren on the comm.”

At the command panel, Kaydel stared at him in shock, then in slowly dawning realization. She turned quickly to the comm, sent out the hail. Kylo Ren’s image shimmered into existence above the holo pad.

Poe set his jaw and swallowed hard. “This is Commander Poe Dameron. We’ll surrender. Under one condition.”

Complete silence fell behind him, broken only by the soft beeps of the unit keeping the general’s heart going.

“Which is?” Ren said.

“Our injured get medical attention. Right now.”

Something unidentifiable flickered across Ren’s face. “Agreed. Bring out your wounded. If any of you has a weapon, if anyone makes a single aggressive move, we’ll destroy all of you.”

“Fine,” Poe snapped. “Just do it.”

Poe nodded at Kaydel. She flipped a switch and the holo of Ren evaporated. The command center suddenly seemed echoingly empty, the handful of survivors huddled around the general and the sergeant attending her.

Poe turned to the shocked and horrified faces around him.

They all looked at one another. He could see them thinking, _Are we really doing this? Will I? Will you?_

He felt the same way. He’d had a taste of Kylo Ren’s mercies. Dying might not be so bad.

He answered the silent questions—and himself. “I know how you feel. But I’m not willing to let the General die.”

All eyes were drawn to her. One by one, they nodded. He saw Finn wet his lips and swallow hard.

“Finn?” Poe said. “Not you, buddy.”

Finn’s head jerked up. “No! I—”

“Yeah, I know. I also know what they’ll do if they get their hands on you. A deserter? You won’t even get the—” _questionable_ , he thought but didn’t say, “—protections of a prisoner of war.” He stepped up to Finn and put a hand on his shoulder. “We need someone on the outside. So we can still hope.”

The look on Finn’s face when Ren had pulled Rey in front of him— Like he’d been blaster-shot point-blank in the gut.

In a lower voice, Poe said, “Rey, in that last transmission? We need you out in case it wasn’t what it looked like.”

“I told you, Rey’d never betray us,” Finn said, hot. “If she’s there, it’s because she doesn’t have a choice.”

Poe wasn’t convinced. But he needed to convince Finn. “Take BB-8. Hide out until the First Order is gone. Then get out of here.” He turned to the others. “Anyone who wants to go with him, I won’t think less of you.” He looked around him. “No one will.”

No one answered, even looked a question at any of the others.

He nodded once. “Okay. Let’s go out there and get help for General Organa.”

* * *

Something rippled through the Force. Kylo’s breath stopped. _Pain_. No, more— _death_. His heart pounded inexplicably. _Get our wounded medical attention. Now_ , the pilot had said.

Someone was dying. The choking dread Kylo felt told him who.

His shuttle now hovered over the assault force on Crait—so much firepower against such a diminished enemy. A tiny figure, arms raised, stepped out of the glowing red hole the siege cannon had torn in the blast doors.

Kylo’s grip on the back of the co-pilot’s seat tightened until the plastic creaked. “Send a medvac unit to meet them.”

He could sense Hux’s contempt and disgust. _Butcher_ , Kylo thought. A rabid cur… Yes. Without a doubt. Hux would kill this pitiful remnant of rebels and make martyrs of them, dead heroes for new rebels to rally around. But Hux didn’t have enough soul in him to realize that.

More figures were trickling out, a ragged line accompanying a couple of freight gurneys over the blood-red battleground.

“Destroy the base, then return to the fleet,” Kylo said. “We’re finished here.”

Kylo turned and brushed past Hux. The other man didn’t acknowledge his order, even bother to step aside.

Kylo stopped, glanced aside at him. “You have an objection, General?”

“None at all,” Hux said. “Pass along the Supreme Leader’s order, Lieutenant. And notify the _Finalizer_ of our return.”

Kylo suppressed his annoyance. He didn’t have time for power games.

* * *

Finn pounded deeper into the mine, hating himself more with every step he took. The light he held bobbed, tiny and struggling in the echoing darkness. The salt in the air burned his lungs, stung his eyes. BB-8 rolled along behind him, shining a light of his own to help guide them.

  _Poe’s right_ , he told himself. _Someone has to stay on the outside. Someone has to be ready to help Rey._

Finn didn’t believe for an instant that she’d betrayed them. _He_ knew Rey—the rest of them didn’t. Kylo Ren had somehow captured her again, maybe when she followed the beacon back to them. Then, once he had her, how hard would it be to force her cooperation in exchange for the lives of her friends?

Rey would do it without thinking twice. _That_ , he was sure of.

But what happened to Luke? What about Chewie and the _Falcon_? Kylo Ren hadn’t said a word about them. Where _were_ they?

An impact shook the ground. Salt crystals pattered around him like rain. The deep boom of artillery echoed along the tunnels.

BB-8 gave an alarmed whistle, his head swiveling to look back. Finn cursed aloud. The First Order wouldn’t leave this place standing. By the time they were finished, the mine would be a smoking red hole in the ground. Ignoring his burning muscles, he ran harder.

Twin lights suddenly appeared close to the floor far ahead. Finn stumbled, then realized what they were. _Eyes_. A flicker and flash of crystal reflected his light as one of native critters turned and bounded away. Pressing a hand to the stitch in his side, Finn followed it.

The booms became incessant. The floor shook so hard he lurched from side to side across the tunnel. Against the dust filling the air, the light made a featureless circle. Coughing, he covered his face with one arm. He stumbled into a wall, felt along it and found a side corridor. A lull in the bombardment, and he heard the _yip-yip_ and tinkle of the creature running ahead of him.

From the sound, the tunnel was growing smaller. He ran with his free hand held out head-high so he wouldn’t crash into the ceiling, then burst through the wall of dust to find himself in a larger chamber.

He squinted. Light glowed through gaps in a jumbled wall of rock. His guide scampered up, dove into a gap—a very _small_ gap—wiggled through and disappeared.

Panting, Finn bent over, hands braced on knees. “Don’t panic,” he said aloud. “Don’t panic.”

BB-8’s whistle sounded much the same.

Setting his jaw, Finn hurried to the rockfall, grabbed a loose rock and heaved. “Stay close to the wall, BB-8.”

A rush and roar came from the tunnel behind him. Dust exploded into the air. Finn dragged away rocks as fast as he could.

A blast knocked him off his feet. On hands and knees, he scrambled toward the wall where BB-8 sheltered. The rumble of falling rock went on and on.

_We’re going to be buried alive. It’s all been for nothing_.

He tucked up as tight as he could and put his arms over his head. Rocks battered him. Teeth gritted, eyes squeezed tight, he waited for the one that would crush him. It didn’t come. After endless seconds, light glowed through his closed eyelids. Fresh air washed over him. BB-8 gave a series of excited beeps and whistles.

Finn raised his head and opened his eyes. A shaft of bright daylight. There, maybe shoulder-high, an opening.

Another boom came. Rock slid and grated.

He bolted. “Come on, BB-8!”

He heaved the little droid up the shifting surface toward the opening. BB-8 shot out a cable and pulled himself through, knocking a more rubble out of the way. Finn squeezed after, not caring how much the salt-coated rock scraped and cut his hands.

He shaded his eyes against the light that reflected blindingly from the white salt cliffs. A line of crystal critters scampered up the rock wall opposite. He followed them with his eyes to the top of the cliff. And there—

There was the _Millenium Falcon_ , Chewie beginning a scrambling descent to meet them.

_If Chewie and the_ Falcon _are_ here…

The first thin, cold doubt trickled down Finn’s spine.


	3. No Second Chance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kylo's choices come back to haunt him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for your comments and kudos! It means so much to me to know you're reading and enjoying my story. I'm having so much fun writing it, and getting to share it with you makes it even more fun.
> 
> Sorry that it's a short chapter-- sometimes it's just the way things want to break. I promise a longer one next week.

Rey’s arrival on the _Finalizer_ wasn’t all that different from when she’d come to the _Supremacy_. Only when she followed Kylo this time, there was no stormtrooper guard, and she didn’t wear restraints.

He didn’t speak as they made their way through the ship’s corridors to the medcenter. She suspected he was only barely aware of her presence.

 _Something’s happened_ , she thought. _Something bad_. She could _feel_ it. The dread she sensed in Kylo—

Sudden realization hit her. _It’s Leia_. _That’s the only way they would’ve surrendered_. Rey went cold.

The medcenter door whisked open. A flurry of droids and humans buzzed around a med table. A life support unit nearly swallowed a small, familiar figure gowned in grey. Rey’s heart sank.

Yes, it was Leia. How fragile she looked! All the strength and vitality leached away, leaving her sunken and vulnerable.  Rey took a step, ready to rush over to her, then stopped. _This is_ Ben’s _mother_ , she reminded herself.

She looked up at him. His face was expressionless. But his fists clenched, and she could see how fast his breaths came. Deliberately, she stepped back.

One of the human physicians looked around at them. “This area is restrict—” She abruptly swallowed the rest and quickly turned back to her patient.

“How is she?” Kylo asked, his voice flat.

A black medical droid padded near. “She’s suffering from heart failure. We are attempting to stabilize her. I should warn you, sir, the delay in treatment has resulted in a poor prognosis for recovery.”

Kylo’s throat bobbed in a swallow.

_Go to her, Ben!_

He glanced around as if he’d heard her thought. Rey met his eyes, saw pain swimming far in the depths.

_Go on!_

He took one step, then another, finally towering like a grim shadow over Leia. His hands clenched and unclenched, then at last, he reached out hesitantly to take her frail fingers in his.

“Mother.”

Leia’s eyes flickered open. “Ben.” Her fingers curled around his.

Rey swallowed tears, for herself, for him.

Kylo was right. This all had to end, this whole, stupid, endless battle. If there were no Jedi and Sith, no First Order and rebellion, there would be none of _this_ —a mother and son hopelessly divided.

Rey caught the human physician’s eye. The woman hesitated, then seemed to recognize the awkwardness of her presence and quietly moved away to a diagnostic display.

Leia’s gaze roved around the medbay. “I’m on your ship?”

“Yes.”

She closed her eyes. “The others?”

“Safe. As I promised.”

“For how long?”

Kylo’s lips gave a bitter twist. “Always worried about someone else.”

 _But not him?_ Rey thought. One of their conversations from the island rushed back, when she’d asked him why he killed Han Solo. _Your parents abandoned you_ , he’d said. _Threw you away like garbage, but you can’t stop needing them_. She thought he’d avoided her question, talking about her instead. He hadn’t. He’d been talking about _himself_.

The knowledge took her breath. He must've left home to train as a Jedi. Then his uncle wanted to kill him. His father… What had Kylo said after he caught her that first time? _He’ll disappoint you_.

She suddenly felt an intruder, witnessing things far more intimate than she had any business knowing.

“Rey?”

She started at Leia’s voice. She glanced a question at Kylo. He lifted a hand as if to bring her forward, but then only made a slight, inviting gesture.

She took an uncertain step to the med table, laid a gentle hand on Leia’s shoulder.

“What happened?” Leia said.

Rey swallowed. She didn’t want to talk about this now.

“Luke wasn’t there,” she lied. Or maybe it wasn’t a lie. Was the man she’d found on that island the brother Leia had known? “When I followed the beacon back—”

“Chewie?” Leia said, her eyes widening in alarm.

“No, no,” Rey said desperately, realizing she was digging herself in deeper and deeper. “He escaped—”

“She came to ask my help, Mother,” Kylo put in, sparing her.

Leia’s eyes widened even more, then narrowed. “And did you?”

“Yes,” Rey said, thinking of Snoke lopped in half, his guards lying in heaps on the floor.

“I’ve done what I can,” Kylo said.

Leia shook her head, frowning, and Rey saw how formidable she must’ve been as a mother.

“You can do…” Leia’s lips pinched in pain. “…so much more…”

“Yes, I can always be _more_ —” Kylo began, a current of anger in his voice.

“Forgive me, sir.”  The physician hurried to his side. “I must ask you to step away.” She quickly broke from his gaze. “For her sake,” she added.

Kylo stood where he was a moment, looking down on his mother with an indecipherable expression. Then he let her hand go and moved back.

Rey ducked back, too, wanting to escape the air thick with too much pain.

The physician and droids closed around Leia again.

Rey, watching anxiously, started when Kylo spoke. “Have her wounds treated,” he ordered a medtech.

She’d almost been able to forget her wounds. He hadn’t. And his own still needed treatment.

To Rey, he said, “I’ll take you to quarters when you’re finished.”

He looked back at Leia for one, long moment, then turned and left the medcenter.

* * *

While droids tended the plasma burn on her shoulder and the lump on her head, Rey had enough time to worry about what “quarters” would involve. A prison cell? Or…something worse?

Kylo ushered her to something she’d never imagined. It was a room, however austere, with a real bed, a small sitting area and desk and—incredible luxury!—a bathing cubicle. And she’d thought her bunk on the _Millennium Falcon_ fine. She made short work of washing off the stink of fear and battle.

Afterwards, she paced, uneasy. She didn’t like the idea of Leia alone on a First Order ship, at the mercy of First Order people, no matter how concerned they’d seemed.

But Leia wasn’t alone. Kylo—no, _Ben_ —was watching over her. His preoccupation had been obvious while he brought Rey here, and he hadn’t lingered after he had. Just opened the door, saw her inside and left again. She could feel his impatience, the way Leia’s presence drew him as powerfully as a tractor beam.

No, Leia wouldn’t be alone. And it wasn’t Rey’s place to intrude on that reunion, however fraught and painful.

Still, she paced, torn, wanting to be by Leia, feeling the wrongness of the impulse. At last, she made herself lie down on the bed, closed her eyes and breathed slowly. She reached for the bond.

Kylo rose up within her, not an image this time, but the agonizing roil of his emotions.

She gasped at the intensity. She’d sensed him before, on Ahch-To, but never like _this_. Never like she was caught out in a sandstorm, pummeled and shredded and without the slightest protection. She was blinded, suffocated, overwhelmed, torn out of herself, absorbed into him. Dark power rose in her—

No, not her. That was Kylo’s power, vast and terrifying, bent to one, relentless purpose. Rey struggled frantically, trying to pull back, clawing for the edges of herself. At the other end of the bond, Kylo was like a black hole dragging her into his irresistible gravity.

 _Ben, stop!_ she cried out wordlessly.

She didn’t know if he heard her—it didn’t feel like he did. His emotions still heaved and pounded at her, but she was back in herself, no longer being sucked away through the bond.

Opening her eyes, she jolted upright. Disoriented, her heart pounding, she looked around the dim, unfamiliar room.

She listened. She’d heard a wail of pain, she was sure of it. But now there was nothing, only the sound of her own breathing and the hush of air through a vent.

No, not nothing. She still felt it, the raw, ragged pulse of grief and guilt. She scrambled up, dressed quickly and crossed to the door. She stood a long moment, her hand on the cold metal, then stepped out into the corridor.

She followed the pain like the acrid scent of smoke. Her chest tightened, her breath coming quicker.

“Hey! You!” A stormtrooper stepped in front of her. “Who are you? Where’re you going?”

The Force funneled around her.

“Move,” Rey said through her teeth, “out of my way.”

The stormtrooper reeled back as if struck. She stepped around him and strode off down the corridor.

 No one else bothered her. She felt them glance, then glance away as if she burned white-hot. Finally, she stood outside another door in another corridor with no idea how she’d gotten there.

 _Here_. She was certain. She swallowed hard and palmed the door open.

Inside, low light illuminated an almost-bare chamber little larger than her quarters. The First Order emblem emblazoned a banner hanging on the opposite wall.

His back to her, Kylo sat by a raised platform. Leia lay there, dressed in a soft, shimmering grey gown, her hair loose around her head and shoulders. Rey’s hand flew to her mouth. A slight movement of Kylo’s head told her he heard her, but he didn’t turn.

Rey fisted her hands and took long, slow breaths, willing her emotions under control. With Kylo’s bombarding her, it was doubly hard. Without deciding to, she took a step, then another, until she finally stood by him. He still didn’t move, didn’t look up. His face was perfectly impassive, but he turned a ring over and over in his fingers in a sort of desperate restlessness.

“The signet of the Princes of Alderaan,” he finally said, displaying the ring between thumb and forefinger. His voice was distant. “Mine now. _Prince_. Of a dead world.”

Rey looked at him in startlement.

“I thought I’d killed her. When we attacked the Resistance cruiser. Then when I saw her—” He broke off, breathing hard.

Air suddenly seemed short. Rey returned to that moment in Snoke’s throne room. The First Order lazily picking off the Resistance transports, her own horror and desperation, Kylo’s utter disinterest…

Because what did the lives of a few rebels matter, she realized, if his mother was already dead?

 _No wonder_ , she thought. _No wonder!_

“I held her hand, Rey,” he whispered. “I tried to hold her here. I couldn’t.”

Hesitant, half-afraid, she laid a hand on his shoulder. A tremor went through him. After a long moment, he reached over to cover her fingers with his.


	4. Betrayals

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The more things change, the more they remain the same. Somehow, Rey and Kylo are still stuck in that throne room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is such a great community! Your comments and kudos really help keep the writing fires burning. Thank you!

Rey didn’t recognize herself in the mirror. She wore a midnight blue tunic and soft trousers in slate grey, clothes she’d found in the closet here in her quarters. She felt like she was being swallowed up here, carried to some future she didn’t choose.

And what about the rebels, Leia’s people? What about Finn, who’d only ever wanted to get as far away from the First Order as he could. Deserter. _Traitor_. What was happening to _him?_

A deep chime sounded in the room. She frowned, wondering what it was. It sounded again, and it finally occurred to her that it must be a request for entry. She clipped her lightsaber to her belt, crossed to the door and opened it.

Kylo stood outside. He looked worn but calm after the long night.

“Come with me,” he said.

“Where?” she said, suspicious.

A flicker of a smile touched the corner of his mouth. “To eat. You do eat, don’t you?”

“When I can,” she said.

The smile disappeared. Not the answer he expected, she guessed. He probably hadn’t gone hungry very often.

Stepping to the side, he made a gesture of invitation.

It was oddly uncomfortable, walking beside him along the corridors of a First Order star destroyer. That sense of displacement rolled over her again, like she was someone she didn’t know. Deliberately, she studied a panel, thinking about what parts were behind it and how long they’d feed her.

They came to a corridor lined with a series of huge, triangular ports. The drifting pieces of Snoke’s ship hung in the star-sprinkled space beyond. Salvage pods and droids whizzed around it, seeming tiny as carrion insects. She stopped to watch. Salvaging _that_ would keep her for _years_.

She looked up to find Kylo watching her.

“No more scavenging, Rey,” he said.

Irritation flicked her. “Maybe I like scavenging.”

He shook his head, refusing to rise to the bait. “You’re destined for more than that.”

She turned away. She didn’t like where this was heading.

“What’s wrong?” he said.

“What about those people who surrendered? What are they destined for?”

“What do you think should happen to them?”

She took a step closer. “Let them go. There are so few now. Send them somewhere…”

“Like Jakku?”

She wrinkled her nose. “Takodana. Or…or, I don’t know. There must be other planets far enough away—”

“Where they can start another rebellion.”

She gave him a hard stare. “What rebellion?”

“Against the First Order—”

“You said,” she broke in, “‘No more First Order. No more rebellion.’ So what does it matter where they go or what they do?”

He looked taken aback, then said impatiently, “It doesn’t work that way.”

Once again, disappointment pressed down on her. “You told me I was holding on,” she said. “I’m not the one holding on, Ben. I don’t have anything to hold on _to_.”

She turned and strode back down the corridor.

* * *

Kylo watched Rey storm away and disappear around a corner. He wanted to go get her, bring her back. But he had an uneasy feeling that was the worst thing he could do. She’d once accused him of hunting her. He didn’t want her to feel like that again. He didn’t want her to feel like she had to run away.

But the disappointment on her face, the same disappointment he’d seen when he asked her to join him after she pleaded…

…for help. It hit him. She’d come to _him_. She’d been with Luke—when he touched Rey’s hand through the Force, Kylo had seen him.

He thought of that brief glimpse of his uncle, the rage twisting his face as he shouted. And then here came Rey, fleeing straight into enemy territory to find him. What had Luke done to force her to such a dangerous, reckless move? Tried to murder another student?

Kylo clenched his fists. He’d _kill_ him.

 _You_ do _have something to hold on to, can’t you see that!_ he wanted to tell her. He gave a growl of frustration. Why should it matter so much what happened to people she’d barely met only days ago? Was she really so alone?

Yes. She was. If anyone knew that, he did. He knew the kind of things loneliness could make someone do.

He looked down the corridor again, more uneasy than before.

* * *

Hux watched Kylo Ren as he paced the _Finalizer’s_ bridge. Ren spoke quietly to this officer or that, giving orders regarding the salvage operation, inquiring if there had been any transmissions in reply to the signals the rebels sent from Crait.

Ren had been an irritant for more years than Hux liked to remember—powerful and under the Supreme Leader’s protection, and so to be tolerated. What use the Supreme Leader had for the man, he couldn’t begin to say. His weakness was as clear as blood spoor in the snow. His fits of temper. His contemptible sympathies. His hesitation to do what was necessary. And now Ren claimed the title of Supreme Leader?

He had no idea how dependent he was on Hux’s acceptance. Or how little that acceptance was guaranteed.

He’d been certain his chance would come when Ren’s precious rebel mother expired. He should’ve lost control, flown into one of his rages, dashed off into some insane recklessness. Hux narrowed his eyes. But Ren hadn’t. He remained calm. Focused.

Dangerous.

Hux clasped his hands behind his back and rocked on his heels. He’d have to move quickly.

* * *

How could she be so stupid? Rey paced the width of her quarters. After the last time she’d asked Kylo for help, why would she think anything would be different now? Except the way they’d sat quietly together by Leia, grieving together…

She’d been wrong. Again. She wouldn’t be wrong a third time.

She touched the lightsaber at her belt, took a long breath and left the room.

The trick to navigating delicate situations was acting like you knew exactly what you were doing and had a perfect right to do it. So she strode along the corridors like she knew where she was going. Which she actually didn’t. When she saw a stormtrooper with a badge of rank on his shoulder, she asked where the prisoners were held—adding a little Force persuasion, of course.

When she got there, the detention block door hissed open on ten stormtroopers.

She hesitated. _Can I control ten? I have to_.

One of them straightened to attention. “Madam…?”

She ignored the request for a name. “The prisoners are to be taken to Hanger Twelve.” She’d heard an officer mention it as she passed in a corridor.

The other stormtroopers were paying attention now. She felt from them a shimmer of surprise and doubt.

“We didn’t receive orders for that,” the first one said.

“Your orders are there.” Bringing the Force to bear, Rey pointed at a screen in the control panel in the center of the room. “You’re to take the prisoners for relocation.”

The stormtrooper turned to the panel. “Here are the orders. We’re to take the prisoners to Hangar Twelve for relocation.”

Rey folded her hands in front of her. “Get the prisoners.”

The leader jerked his head at the others. “Get the prisoners.”

They retrieved restraints and moved into the cell block. Rey held them in her mind, dampened questions and uncertainty. She didn’t need to actually control them. Once they were convinced that they were only following orders, they’d go along without her help.

Guarded by four stormtroopers, the rebels, shackled, came trickling out. So few! Rey searched for Finn among them. He wasn’t there.

Rey struggled to keep her dismay off her face. “Is this all?”

“There’s one more in the infirmary,” a stormtrooper said, the one who seemed to be in command.

One of the rebels, a dark-haired man, snapped his head up. “Only one? What—”

The stormtrooper guarding him slammed the butt of his blaster into the man’s stomach. “Shut up, rebel scum.”

Rey flinched when the man doubled over but forced calm on herself. “Where’s the traitor?”

“He wasn’t among the captured, Madam,” the commander said. “Probably dead—no loss.”

 _No!_ she wailed inwardly. “Bring the injured one, too.” Her voice shook only a little.

The hatred in the rebels’ eyes as they stared at her made her skin shrink. _They think_ I’m _a traitor_ , she realized. Would Finn have thought the same? The idea made her queasy.

They brought out a round-cheeked young woman on a repulsor-gurney in a few minutes. She was bruised and unconscious, but it looked as though the gashes on her face had been treated—cleaned and sealed. Kylo had kept his word on that, at least.

The stormtroopers, surrounding the battered group of prisoners, clattered out into the corridor. Chin up and hands folded behind her back, Rey followed.

Hangar Twelve could’ve been the twin to one the _Falcon’s_ escape pod had landed in. Walkers and TIE fighters lined the soaring bulkheads, and shuttles and troop carriers rested on landing pads on the deck.

“Take them to the shuttle,” Rey ordered.

Only nudging with the Force, she hoped the stormtroopers would make the most appropriate choice. They marched the rebels up the ramp of a shuttle about halfway down the deck. Her pulse was racing. Now she had to get them to leave.

“The guard accompanying us will need the restraint key.” In her mind, she held an image of a line of stormtroopers in the cabin behind her.

“You’ll need this.” The commander held out a data key. Rey, giddy with disbelief and triumph, took it from his white-gauntleted hand.

“Well done,” she breathed, half to him, half to herself. “You’re dismissed. Return to the detention center.”

She was intensely aware of the rebels’ eyes, now suspicious and confused. A sharp tang of fear emanated from someone.

“Back to the detention center,” the commander ordered his men with an abrupt gesture.

The stormtroopers stumped out. Holding her breath, Rey waited a few long minutes, then turned to unlock the rebels’ restraints.

Fumbling with nerves, she started with the dark-haired man—Commander Dameron? She thought she recognized him from the holo on Kylo’s shuttle. “I’m Rey,” she said breathlessly, finally getting the key into the restraints.

He jerked free as they sprang open, eyeing her coldly. “I know.”

She went to the next prisoner, her hands still shaking. “I know what it looks like.” She glanced up into another unfamiliar face, a man who looked like he’d spent his whole life in battles. “But I’m getting you out of here. Our best chance is to be quick and quiet, before they know anything is wrong.”

“We’re not going anywhere without General Organa,” Dameron said.

Rey’s hands froze on the next set of restraints and she looked up, appalled.

“You don’t—? They didn’t—?” she stammered.

She swallowed hard, aware of the painful silence around her, all the eyes on her. “She died last night,” she said in a small voice. “I talked to her before…before… They did everything they could—”

Dameron lunged at her, grabbed the front of her tunic and slammed her up against a bulkhead. Two or three people shouted in protest and moved toward them.

Dameron ignored them. “You filthy little scavenger. You think I don’t know what you’re playing at? You kill Leia, then set us up for an example. How’ll it go? Let us get away and then hunt us down with the hyperdrive tracker? Maybe just shoot us down before we hit lightspeed.” He gave her another hard shove and spat, “ _Quick_ and _quiet_. When we don’t have flight clearances. Yeah, things’ll stay real quiet the minute we fire up the engines.”

“Get your hands _off_ me,” Rey snarled. She slammed her forearms upward, breaking his hold. The fact that another man was trying to pull him off helped.

 _Flight clearances?_ She didn’t know anything about that. Anger helped hide her dismay. “Who gives the clearances?”

Doubt flickered in Dameron’s eyes.

“Flight control,” the battered veteran said.

“Where?” Rey said.

He moved to the shuttle’s cockpit and pointed at a windowed overlook high in the hangar. “There.”

Rey nodded once, swallowing her panic. “I’ll take care of it.”

Ignoring her shaking knees, she strode back down the shuttle’s ramp and across the hangar to the lift.

* * *

Since she’d come here, Kylo could sense Rey at will. All he had to do was think of her and she was there in his mind. He usually sensed grim resolve—a lot of grim resolve. He was beginning to suspect that was just Rey.

He was talking to one of the engineers about the installation of the _Supremacy’s_ hyperdrive tracker. A minor problem, adapting it to the _Finalizer’s_ power and data grids. The man’s tension and anxiety grated along Kylo’s nerves. On idle impulse, he reached out for Rey.

A churn of rapidly changing emotions buffeted him. He grew uneasy, losing the thread of the officer’s words. Suddenly, Rey’s fear and dismay spiked through him.

He broke into the engineer’s nervous explanations. “Yes, do what you have to. Keep me informed of your progress.”

He abruptly turned and strode from the room. When the door shut behind him, he ran.

* * *

Rey touched the flight control center’s code-locked door. Closing her eyes, she reached out to the people inside.

 _There’s something out here. You have to come see_.

She waited, struggling to control her breathing—and her panic.

 _Hurry! It’s out here_ —

The door whisked open. She almost toppled into the man who stood just inside. The worried creases on his face changed to surprise.

Rey reached out and did what Kylo had when he first caught her—she shoved the man down into unconsciousness. He crumpled to the deck. The others in the room, two men and a woman, swung around. The men jumped to their feet. The woman reached for the controls, maybe to sound an alarm. Rey snatched away her consciousness first. The woman toppled out of her chair. The men made it halfway across the room before Rey had them down, too.

She darted inside, pausing long enough to drag the first man inside and shut the door.

Screens and control panels lined the room, casting a strange, flickering light over the chairs, the slumped forms of the control personnel. She leaned on the panel and looked out the window.

From up here, the shuttle holding the rebels looked toylike, sitting on its white-lined pad on the vast black deck. She let out a relieved breath. No stormtroopers in sight, only techs and mechanics and droids moving like insects among the craft and transports. She took her lightsaber in hand and ignited it, a signal of her success.

The shuttle’s engines blazed. It rose from the deck.

She sucked in a horrified breath. _No, wait! Don’t leave me!_ She pressed a hand against the window as if to catch hold of them before they did.

The shuttle’s wings folded down into flight position. It glided out of the hangar, through the energy field that kept the hangar pressurized and out into space. Her heart pounding much too hard, Rey watched until the ship slipped from view. The red triangle on the screen in front of her winked out as it jumped to lightspeed.

Deactivating her lightsaber, she dropped her head and squeezed her eyes shut.

 _You don’t have time for this!_ she railed at herself. _Take another ship and get out while you’ve got the chance_.

She pushed up and darted to the door.

It opened on Kylo Ren.

* * *

Kylo took in the scene in a single glance. The crumpled forms of the flight control officers. Rey, panting, unlit lightsaber in hand, her eyes wide with horror and panic. She stumbled back.

He stepped into the room. “What happened here?”

“I—I—” She couldn’t seem to get any more out.

Her fear beat at him. Fear—of _him_.

He glanced again at the people on the floor, then out the control room windows to the hangar. The scene began to piece itself together. A shadow of dark suspicion rose.

“What did you do?”

She just mouthed for a moment. Finally, she blurted, “You wouldn’t do anything for them!”

“The rebels.” His voice came out amazingly calm. “You helped them escape.”

She was trying to edge around him. He couldn’t look at her, instead staring out at the hangar. The air in the room felt too hot to breathe.

“What was I supposed to do?” she said. “I couldn’t just—just—abandon them!”

He spun to face her, clenching his fists. “I _trusted_ you!” he shouted.

“The way I was supposed to trust you?” she flared back.

She still held her lightsaber. Armed. Against _him_. Fury rose in a dark wave. She wasn’t going to get the chance to use it this time.

Kylo whipped up a hand, using the Force to snatch for the weapon. Shock crossed her face and her hand jerked up, too. The lightsaber hung shivering in the air between them, balanced as they circled one another, neither able to overcome the other.

He reached his free hand for his own weapon, ignited it, and slashed the ragged red blade through her lightsaber.

He was ready for the explosion—he went flat to the deck. She wasn’t. It threw her into the corridor and into a bulkhead. Kylo leapt to his feet, his lightsaber spitting the red sparks of his rage.

Rey was only stunned. She pushed to hands and knees, head hanging. He took three long strides toward her.

The stamp of armored boots rang through the corridor. A squadron of stormtroopers came around the corner, then another squadron, and another. He stopped, eyes narrowed, lightsaber blazing ready in his hand. The squad stopped just short of Rey.

“What’s this?” he growled.

Hux pushed forward through the ranks. He stopped, clasped his hands behind him. At his feet, Rey still struggled to push herself up.

Hux’s gaze went from her to the unconscious flight controllers behind Kylo. “I might ask the same thing.”

“This is none of your business,” Kylo said, putting real menace in his voice.

“Ah, but I think it is.” Hux’s face wore the look of a man whose dearest wish has just been granted. He raised his voice. “Kylo Ren, I am arresting you on charges of collusion, high treason and the murder of Supreme Leader Snoke.” He pointed at Rey and ordered the stormtroopers, “Pick up that scum.”

Two of them hauled Rey up by the arms. She hung between them, blinking and dazed.

 _It would be so easy_ , Kylo thought distantly. Just blast all of them. Problem solved. No more stormtroopers, no more Hux, no more Rey. Would anyone try to challenge him after that?

 _Yes. They will_. Hux had allies. Kylo knew some of them, but not all. The army belonged to Hux. Kylo would forever be a hunted animal, despite his power, despite rank, despite everything.

His gaze went to Rey. She’d finally gotten her feet under her. He expected to see fear, but what nearly rocked him back was fury that matched his own. At him? Maybe. But he was certain she wouldn’t succumb to Hux’s machinations.

 _The enemy of my enemy_ , he thought. Kylo extinguished his lightsaber and tossed it at Hux’s feet.


	5. Escape

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Hux realizes he made a slight miscalculation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm straying a little off-canon here. The TIE Silencer is actually a one-man fighter, but I (and Kylo) have added a gunner's seat. There is room for one if you look at the specs. I also learned that it's designed to double as a personal shuttle, so I think it reasonable to have some of the mods you'll see coming up.

Hux marched Kylo along in front of the troops like a prize. Kylo didn’t need to look at the man to know his smug triumph, like oily slime.

Rey was somewhere behind him. Rage and betrayal and abandonment poured off her in waves, echoing his own. As if _she_ had a reason to feel betrayed and abandoned!

He smothered his own anger enough to reach out to her through the Force. _Rey_ —

She thrust him away so violently he stumbled. The stormtroopers who held his arms simply dragged him forward. It took every ounce of control he possessed to keep from crushing them like so many used ration cans.

Kylo forced his breathing to slow. _Patience_. He’d learned _that_ well enough at Snoke’s knee. If Hux thought he’d be so easy to destroy, he was an idiot. Maybe he thought holding Rey would restrain him.

Kylo tested his feelings. _Will it?_ An hour ago, maybe. It was an uncomfortable realization. How could he have allowed himself to become so vulnerable?

He wasn’t now. That was all that mattered.

* * *

Stormtroopers surrounded Rey, a practically solid wall of white armor. Restraints locked her wrists. Again. She felt Kylo somewhere ahead of her, seething after she shut her mind to him.

No help there. There never had been, had there? Never, from the very beginning. Only Snoke’s manipulation. And then Kylo’s, using her to destroy his vile master.

The hurt and betrayal were so huge she thought they would tear her apart. She reached out with them.

Under her feet, the deck shuddered. She let the Force flow into her and out again, dark and violent with her pain. The deck buckled upward as if shoved from underneath by a giant fist.

The stormtroopers pitched and staggered, shouting. Rey rode the heaving deck effortlessly. A single thought, and the restraints fell from her wrists. She thrust out both hands and a shockwave of Force blasted the stormtroopers away, sent them sprawled and spinning across the groaning metal of the deck.

* * *

Kylo felt the massive surge of the dark side of the Force. With a shriek of twisting metal, the deck shook under him. He whirled to see Rey somehow rising out of the midst of her guard. Her face blazed with anger. Her hands jerked up, fingers splayed, and stormtroopers bowled away like toys.

_Rey?_ he thought, stunned, then also reached for the Force.

He seized Hux, lifting him into the air. His lightsaber flew to his hand from the troop commander’s grasp. Blasters came up, firing. Igniting his lightsaber, Kylo deflected the shots back into the squadron, swinging Hux back and forth in front of them like a shield. Hux screamed and writhed as bolts whizzed past him—and into him. The stormtroopers fell back, unwilling to continue firing at their general.

Another Force blast from behind sent men flying into the hapless Hux. Rey burst through and sprinted past, a blaster in her hands. Kylo hesitated, then threw Hux down the corridor. Still screaming, he fell onto the shouting, scrambling stormtroopers. The scream abruptly cut off. Kylo turned and pounded after Rey.

He caught up with her at the junction of two corridors. With a gasp, she dodged to the side and raised the blaster. He caught her wrist before she could shoot him and jerked her into the righthand corridor.

“This way.”

Off balance, she stumbled along a few steps before she found her stride again, running beside him.

The clatter of stormtrooper boots echoed ahead. A squadron rounded a corner, blasters firing the moment they came in sight. Kylo’s lightsaber flicked the bolts away. A thrust of his hand and the stormtroopers flew, hit the bulkhead at the end of the corridor and slid to the deck. They didn’t move again.

More boots sounded behind them. Rey snarled and spun. He felt her grip the Force as she lifted the men at the front of the squad and shoved them backward into their squad mates. Seizing her wrist again, Kylo ran, past the slumped troopers into the next corridor.

She yanked at his grasp as she ran. “Let go of me!” she panted.

He ignored her. Turning another corner, they almost collided with another squadron. She shot three. He made short work of the rest with his lightsaber.

Rey took the opportunity to dart away. He caught her before she got far, clamped an arm around her waist and hauled her back.

“Get your hands off me!” she spat.

He slammed a control panel with his free hand while she did her best to break his leg with a kick. The door slid open on a jump chute, the narrow passageway that led to a TIE fighter’s cockpit.

“You were getting ready to steal a ship, weren’t you?”

“Not with you!”

“Yes, with me,” he snarled. “You think I’ll leave you behind me to be the First Order’s attack dog?”

“I’d never—!”

He swung her around and shoved her into the chute. “Get in there.”

He crowded in behind her, forcing her forward. At the cockpit, she balked. He gave her another shove that sent her tumbling into the gunner’s seat. While she was still struggling to right herself, he sealed the hatch and slid into the pilot’s seat.

He flicked controls, powering up the fighter. Red light flared. Systems coming online hummed. Activating engines whined. Behind him, Rey fulminated curses and bumped in the seat.

“Did you ever run the guns on the _Falcon_?” he said.

“Once.” Anger clipped the word short.

“Same principle. If you want to stay alive, shoot whatever comes in your sights.”

Kylo blew the docking tether and punched the engines. The fighter shot out over the hangar deck and through the magnetic field into space. Flipping switches to activate the stealth field generator, he swung the Silencer close and parallel to the _Finalizer’s_ hull.

The star destroyer’s superstructures blurred past as the fighter raced along the ship’s beltline, out of range of its cannons. But not out of range of the swarm of TIE fighters that swooped into view over the horizon of the hull.

Kylo flipped down the targeting array and engaged deflector shields. Green plasma bolts zipped past. In the gunner’s seat behind him, Rey gasped.

“The stealth field means they have to target us visually,” he told her. “We don’t have the same problem.”

Targeting beeped and flashed orange, not quite on-target. He let the Force guide his aim. He fired, blasting two fighters at once. The whine of the tail guns he’d had added to the craft sounded as Rey fired, too. A fighter’s solar collector went spinning past, smashed against the _Finalizer’s_ hull in a spray of sparks.

“Why are we staying so close?” she said, firing again. “Get us out of here!”

“We’re below the range of their cannons.”

“But why—”

With a twist of the joystick, he changed course and took out four more fighters in quick succession. Firing, Rey leaned in the gunner’s seat as if she could change course through sheer will. The Force rippled in response.

“Don’t,” Kylo snapped. “Let me fly.”

This wasn’t like when they’d fought in Snoke’s throne room, in perfect synchrony. This was like fighting with a wound, weakened and off-balance.

He felt the dismay that flashed through her, then annoyance.

“I thought we were trying to stay alive,” she muttered.

He didn’t bother replying, only swung up to race along the destroyer’s upper deck, dodging under cannon fire.

“What are you _doing?_ ” she demanded.

“I have a parting gift to deliver.”

Touching the Force, he let his awareness slip a few seconds into the future.

He pulled the Silencer up, trailing a string of fighters. Ahead, one of the _Finalizer’s_ cannons was firing, plasma burning hot green streaks across the black of space. At just the right instant, he dived down again. Cannon bolts ripped through the pack of fighters following. He banked starboard and took out two more, the shots sending debris spinning into the paths of the wingmen. _Neat as can be_ , he thought with grim satisfaction.

The _Finalizer’s_ bridge glowed on his targeting screen. He unlocked the trigger for his warheads. His thumb didn’t hesitate now as it had when targeting another bridge. He pressed down.

Deadly balls of energy whooshed away. The bridge exploded in a glow of superheated gasses and spinning shards of metal. His deflector shields glowed, a briefly visible bubble of excited electrons as they shunted fire and wreckage around them.

Rey’s breath went out in rush, then she was firing again. “ _Now_ can we get out of here?”

“Just shoot.”

“I _am_ shooting!”

The fleet must’ve scrambled every TIE fighter available. A deadly swarm of black wings flickered across the starfield as he aimed the Silencer for the nearest destroyer, the _Conqueror_. Rey must’ve sensed what was in his mind.

“Are you crazy?” she yelped, her voice going up half an octave.

Both the _Conqueror_ and the _Annihilator’s_ cannons sent fire converging on them. Kylo sent the nimble Silencer twisting and diving through the bolts, leading swaths of fighters through the lethal hail of friendly fire.

“Less work for us,” he said.

This time, he was outside the destroyers’ deflectors. The Silencer packed weapons that made even a star destroyer’s deflectors meaningless. And no one in the First Order had ever stopped to consider that they might be used against its own.

The bridges of the _Conqueror_ , then the _Annihilator,_ went the same way the _Finalizer’s_ had while Rey screamed curses and called him every name a scavenger girl could be expected to know.

Kylo kicked the Silencer into a spin to burn momentum and to confuse targeting sensors. The trailing fighters shot past him. Three quick shots and pieces of fighters went spinning. The faceted cockpit of one hurtled across his flightpath. His deflectors glowed blue, then white as it collided with them. Orange light flared on his systems status screen—forward deflectors down. He bit back a curse and punched new orders into the flight computer.

The computer flashed completion of its calculations and he shoved the control slides, engaging the hyperdrive. The stars ahead compressed, turned into bright streaks and they were gone.


	6. Crossroads

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which certain agreements are reluctantly made.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Put it in 4-wheel drive, because we're bushwhacking off-canon wilds from here on out.
> 
> Sorry for the short chapter. I'll make it up to you next week. :-)

Rey slumped the gunner’s seat, her heart hammering. Sweat made her tunic cling to her. She closed her eyes and breathed in the fighter’s sharp metallic odor, so different from the dusty, musty, oily smells of the old ships she was used to. The hyperdrive sent a steady, rippling vibration through the hull, a hum just on the edge of hearing.

Kylo moved in the pilot’s seat at her back, tapping keys and flipping switches. She looked around the tiny cabin, big enough for a man to stand upright and extend his arms, but not much more. A control panel of some kind stood against the rear bulkhead.

She _hated_ leaving someone else in control. Especially when that someone else was Kylo Ren. Although she had to admit, she probably wouldn’t have gotten as far if she’d managed to steal a ship.

She wet her lips. “What now?”

“Now,” he said, “we head to Laharna Spaceport.”

She twisted in her seat. “A spaceport. Where people from all over are coming and going. Where people might _recognize_ us.”

“Yes, a spaceport,” he snapped. “Where ships are coming and going from all over _through hyperspace_.”

“What’s that got to do with anything?”

He turned in his own seat, coming nearly face-to-face with her. “We have active hyperspace tracking—”

“ _We_ ,” she interrupted. “ _We,_ who’ve been trying very hard to kill _you_.”

He was silent for a beat, staring at her furiously. “ _They._ The First Order can track us through hyperspace. The stealth field will only make it more difficult, not lose them.”

_Oh_. She didn’t voice the word. She’d crawled through enough star destroyers to know that besides the main bridge, they also had a battle bridge. Kylo’s bombing run would slow them down a little more. But that was all.

She thought of the swarms of fighters, the plasma bolts so thick they made the inside of the cabin flare green. Those endless minutes of terror had been nothing but pure vindictiveness?

“You mean you—”

“What?” he said, challenging.

She swiveled back into her seat. “Nothing.”

“Say it.”

“I already did, while you were attacking those _two_ _more_ ships. I won’t repeat it.”

“Good.” He turned back to the controls.

Just for that, she wanted to curse him again.

* * *

Frantic comm traffic broke out moments after Kylo’s dropped the ship out of hyperspace to orbit over Larharna. The planet was far from First Order space, but that didn’t mean the Silencer wasn’t recognized for what it was.

Rey leaned around the pilot’s seat, looking over his shoulder at the view beyond the cockpit. Apparently her curiosity overcame her anger at him.

Larharna was a small, low-grav world with a thin but breathable atmosphere—perfect conditions for a spaceport. Ships—mostly mining rigs, freighters and tugs—circled in orbit, rising and descending to the spaceport.

As Kylo dropped through a filigree of clouds, the port gradually resolved as a pattern of circles and squares on a lowland plain at the edge of an inland sea. According to the ship’s data banks, the mountains behind the port actually rose above the stratosphere. The peaks stood stark, cold and uneroded in the white light of Larharna’s sun.

An elite First Order starfighter wouldn’t be welcome in a notoriously independent mining system, but the port authority didn’t dare refuse him a berth. He swept over the bright turquoise waters of the sea, past an enormous dish antenna and descended on the edge of the blocky complexes of warehouses, administration buildings and loading and repair docks that cluttered the port.

He set the Silencer down beside a docking tower probably designed for a mining rig. A thump and a gentle rocking of the ship came as a boarding ladder automatically deployed.

Kylo unsealed the hatch and stood. Rey looked up at the open hatch, at him, then seemed to realize how close they stood. She took a long step back. He turned away and climbed out of the cockpit.

A ramp led from the docking berth to the spaceport proper. He leapt down the last few steps of the boarding ladder. Rey landed more lightly behind him. Not looking back, he strode down the ramp, then paused at the bottom. She brushed past him.

He caught her arm. “Where are you going?”

“Stop grabbing me!” She spun and ripped free of his grasp. “Touch me again and I’ll—”

He took a step closer, looming over her. “You’ll what?” he said in a flat voice.

She glared up at him, fists clenched. “We got here, now we’re finished. You go your way, I go mine.”

“Where? Back to Jakku? Or to find your rebel friends?”

“You don’t have to worry about that,” she spat. “They think I betrayed them. They _left_ me.”

He’d never heard a single word loaded with so much pain and bitterness.

“Why did you come to me, Rey?” The question nagged him endlessly. “You’d found Luke. Why put yourself in so much danger?”

He didn’t think she’d answer for a moment, but she burst out, “He wouldn’t _help_. He wouldn’t teach me. He said I scared him. And then, when he saw—” She glanced away.

“Me,” he said. “Us. Touching—”

“He told me to get off the island,” she broke in. “And I thought—” She stopped.

“You thought what? I’d help? I’d teach you?”

She turned away. “It doesn’t matter. I was wrong.”

_Abandoned, betrayed, lost, alone_. This wasn’t the first time she’d felt that way. He remembered when he’d entered her mind, on Starkiller Base. That moment of pure, startling recognition.

_Don’t be afraid. I feel it too_ …

Kylo’s hand came up without him willing it, but he kept himself from touching her. “Our chances of survival are better together than alone.”

_You’re so lonely…_

“ _Your_ chances, maybe. I can survive just fine by myself.”

_There’s an island. I see it_ …

“That was before you took part in killing Supreme Leader Snoke,” he said. “And his entire guard. _Then_ escaped a star destroyer after flattening several squads of stormtroopers.”

Doubt showed on her face.

He lowered his voice. “Do you know how you did that, Rey?” He paused, watching her. “You used the dark side of the Force.”

“I did not—!”

“You did,” he broke in. “You think I don’t know the difference? Just like you went into the dark cave on the island. Are you sure you want to be out there on your own?”

“I won’t do it again,” she said too quickly.

“You will. You know you will. As long as you’re blundering along alone, you’ll do it. Because the dark side of the Force is always easier…when you’re afraid.”

He could see her wavering. He eased back, giving her a little more space, and waited.

“Okay,” she said. “But you _only_ tell me if I’m using the dark side. Nothing else. I won’t turn.”

She stalked off down the ramp. He let out a breath and followed.

The place wasn’t clean and orderly, like a First Order or even a New Republic port. The concrete buildings bore the marks of collisions and shoddy maintenance. The tugs and ground transports and cargo loaders looked cobbled and patched and belched eye-stinging gasses from faulty generators. The people looked just as cobbled and patched, wearing clothes that looked like they’d been lived in for years, jarringly coupled with rings and earrings and pendants of precious stones. The babble of twenty different languages and the stink of unwashed bodies buffeted him as they made their way into the port.

Kylo saw the men glance at Rey, then at him, then away. If she noticed, she didn’t give any sign beyond alert watchfulness. He felt eyes on his back and rested his hand on the hilt of his lightsaber.

How long had it been since he’d been anywhere without the might of the First Order behind him? Without the respect granted the disciple of Supreme Leader Snoke, or the son of Leia, Senator and Princess of dead Alderaan, or even that given a Skywalker Jedi-in-training? It was an uncomfortable realization, even more uncomfortable to watch the scavenger girl carelessly navigate the ominous, unreadable currents around them.

She frowned up at him. “What’re you doing?”

“What _am_ I doing?”

“You’re _looming_ ,” she said. “It’s making people stare.”

To his annoyance, he realized he nearly brushed her shoulder. He deliberately increased the space between them.

“We need different clothes,” Rey muttered. “We stand out too much.”

She wore the clothes he’d provided on the _Finalizer_ , the off-duty dress of a female ranking officer. Few would recognize the origins of her Jakku-accented Basic. Only the scars, scrapes and calluses on her hands gave her away.

He didn’t want to admit how much he admired both on her—the fine clothes, and the scars.

“You look like a lady,” he said. “They think I’m your bodyguard.”

She shot him a startled look. He caught the edge of a grin as she turned away.

“I’m the one with the blaster,” she said. “Maybe I’m _your_ bodyguard.”

If she was reading him—! Kylo shut his feelings down tight.

If she noticed, she didn’t say anything. When the throngs and bustle thinned, she said, “What’re we doing here?”

He scanned their surroundings, letting the Force enhance his senses. On the other side of a loading dock, a freighter took off with a roar of engines.

“My ship took damage,” he said. “It needs repairs, and we need to resupply. When we leave, I plan to get lost in the crowd.”

She stopped, forcing him to stop, too. “We need another ship.”

He started walking again. “No. The Silencer has weapons that can take down anything the First Order sends after us.”

“Yes. And anyone who sees it will know exactly where you are.”

He stopped, turned back. She hadn’t moved to follow him.

“So what you have to decide,” she said patiently, “is if you want to spend all your time fighting your enemies, or if you want to lose them.”

“Those aren’t the only options.”

She just looked at him. “You said we could survive better together than separately. You got us away from the First Order fleet.”

It surprised him that she’d give him credit for that, as angry as she was.

She tapped her chest. “I know how to survive.”

“I’m not giving up that ship,” he said.

She sighed. “Then I’ll look at it. I can fix anything.”

“That ship,” he said, “is cutting-edge First Order technology. Not the forty-year-old derelicts you’re used to tinkering with.”

Anger flashed through her. She took a swift breath as if to reply, let it out, then turned and stormed off. He followed, hating that he did.

* * *

It was all Rey could do to keep from walking away from him right then and there, dark side use or no dark side use. Stupid to keep that ship—it might as well flash like a brothel sign. She’d heard the panic that went out over the comm channels the minute they dropped out of hyperspace. And if she heard it, so had everyone else in comm range. A free berth wasn’t worth the noise. And then to say she couldn’t possibly do anything to fix the ship! As if she hadn’t spent her whole life finding a way to make dead and broken things work.

_Cutting edge_. Well, Kylo could just cutting-edge himself here until the First Order caught up with him.

Except she really didn’t want the First Order catching up to _her_ , either.

“How much time,” she began just as he said, “We don’t have much time—”

“How much?” she said.

“An hour, maybe two if we’re lucky. It depends on how quickly they can rearrange leadership. There are clear chains of command. Now that I’ve been declared a traitor to the First Order…” He trailed off.

“They can’t let you go.”

“ _Us_ ,” he said.

She didn’t reply to that. “To find someone like you want, someone who won’t ask too many questions, it’s going to take time. And it’s going to cost. Do you have any precious metals?”

“No,” he said.

“Anything to trade?”

He only gave her a withering look.

“Then services are all we have to offer. If you were on your own…” She gave him a pointed look. “If you were on your own, you could go mercenary or assassin. _I’m_ not getting involved in anything like that. There are people in the galaxy you don’t want to get tangled up with. Like gangsters. When I was on the—” She stopped.

“What?” he said.

“Never mind.”

“The _Millennium Falcon_?”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“With my father.”

Frowning, she walked faster. “I said I don’t want to talk about it.”

“You met gangsters,” he guessed. “I’m not surprised. After all, my father took you to a pirate’s den on Takodana. What did you expect to find there?”

“Nothing you don’t already know about.”

“Pirates, smugglers, rebels, and a deserter. You keep terrible company, Rey.”

She slid him a look. “It seems that way, doesn’t it?”

He shut up at that, though she felt anger flare through him. Too bad. If he said one more word about Han Solo, she’d—

No. She _wouldn’t_ cry. Not in front of him.


	7. Marks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Kylo and Rey make the wrong impression.

Rey seemed to have found whatever she’d been looking for. It had been an exasperating search, with Rey stopping random people to make insignificant small talk or ask inconsequential questions. Kylo had held in his impatience. Mostly. After she started ignoring him.

Now she stood by a freighter more battered than the _Millenium Falcon_ had ever been, addressing a pair of worn work boots that protruded from an access panel.

“Are you Merrik Farsa?”

One boot rose, bracing on the lip of the access. The groan of pried metal came from within.

“I’m told you’re the best mechanic in port,” Rey went on.

The boots shifted. A _clunk_ and a curse came from the ship’s innards, but still no reply.

“The ship is cutting-edge technology,” she said with a glance at Kylo. “So I hope the best this port has to offer is good enough.”

There was a loud _bang_ and a spatter of sparks. The boots, then the man wearing them, came slithering out, glaring.

He was skinny and shorter than Rey. An enormous beard made up for the lack of hair on his head. Both arms below the pushed-up sleeves of his jacket were cybernetic.

He looked Rey up and down with disfavor. “Don’t try those tricks on me, girlie. If you want me to work for you, don’t start by insulting me.”

“Sorry,” she said. “The last ‘best mechanic in port,’” she laced the words with sarcasm, “turned out to be a bit of a disappointment.”

“What?” The man—Farsa, presumably—frowned thunderously. “Who’s saying that?”

She turned to Kylo, standing behind her. “Did you get his name?”

“No,” Kylo said, bemused. Since there hadn’t been a “last best mechanic” at all.

“Yeah,” Rey said. “Me neither.”

Farsa eyed them with wary confusion. “Where’re you from?”

Rey sighed dramatically and rolled her eyes. “ _Again_.” She turned to Kylo again. “Why do they keep asking that? What _difference_ does it make?”

“It must be our air of subdued menace,” he said, warming to the game.

The mechanic glanced at Kylo as if wondering if he was serious. _Oh, yes_ , Kylo thought. _Deadly serious_.

The man ran a metal hand over his bald head. “Huh,” he said. “What’ve you got?”

“A star fi—” Rey began.

“A Sienar-Jaemus TIE/vn space superiority fighter,” Kylo said.

The mechanic’s brows rose, sending a ladder of wrinkles up his forehead. “That’s yours? The whole port’s talking about it.”

Rey gave him an _I-told-you-so_ look.

“What’s wrong with it?” Farsa said.

“I took damage to my forward deflector projector.”

“Right.” The man studied Kylo, then Rey again, seeming to reassess them. “We’re talking high-end skills and high-end parts. So. Payment.”

“We fly escort,” Rey said. “Any ship we fly with will get where it’s going.”

Kylo glanced sharply at her.

Farsa’s lips gave a half-wry, half-sour quirk. “Doesn’t do me any good. I’m not going anywhere.”

Rey folded her arms. “No, but you work for pilots who are. We fly for them, they pay you.”

“You fly with them, I do the work when you get back.”

“Hmm,” Rey said. “Sounds like your customers don’t put much value on your work, if they aren’t willing to front your fee.” She shrugged and said to Kylo, “Better we find out now, not when we need that deflector shield.”

She turned.

_This is ridiculous_ , Kylo thought as she began to walk away. _We don’t have time for these games_.

He raised a hand toward the mechanic—

“Wait,” the man said.

Kylo lowered his arm. Rey turned, an expectant expression on her face.

“I can make a deal,” the mechanic said. “But I have to talk to some people first.”

Rey studied him. “Okay,” she finally said. “But don’t take too long. We have other options. You know where to find us,” she tossed over her shoulder as she walked away.

Kylo followed, not worrying this time about how closely. “‘ _We fly escort_?’” he snarled when they were out of earshot. “If you’d bothered to ask me, I could’ve told you I have no intention of playing nursemaid—”

She rounded on him. “You have another idea?”

“Yes,” he snapped. “I’ll go back there. He’ll come, and there won’t be any argument about payment.” He turned.

She caught his arm and started walking again. “We can’t afford to attract any more attention than we already have. The First Order isn’t the only thing we have to worry about in a place like this.”

“Like _this?_ ” He waved his arm, taking in the scruffy miners and rig jockeys, the junk ships, the sputtering transports.

“You don’t know how fast you can end up dead here,” she said. “Believe me. I’ve seen it enough.”

That stopped him. She’d seemed so confident…

“We have to be careful,” she went on. “I don’t like the way he looked when you told him about that ship.”

“What did you sense?”

She frowned. “I don’t know. Something… An idea? A plan?” She shook her head. “This was a mistake. We look like marks.”

He narrowed his eyes at the activity around them. There were still the same glances, the outright stares of appraisal.

“Then they’ll be surprised,” he said, “when they find out we’re not.”

* * *

Hux woke with a gasp. Blurred shapes wavered across his vision. A mask covered his mouth and nose. He reached to strip it off, but something tangled his arms. He struggled, panicking—

“Sir,” a voice said. “General. Be calm, sir. All is well. You’re undergoing treatment for your injuries.”

_Injuries?_ What—?

Broken images tumbled into his mind. The crushing grip of Ren’s accursed sorcery lifting him into the air. Blaster bolts ripping into his body. Flying backwards down the corridor, falling…

Then nothing.

Out of the blur he now saw, one shape resolved itself, the oval of a face, the grey outlines of a uniform. A physician? He must be in a medbay, in a bacta tank. His panic ebbed enough to think.

“Where are Ren and the girl?” His voice came muffled through the mask and fluid.

“Don’t distress yourself, General. I’ve notified your senior officers that you’re now conscious. They’ll soon be here to brief you.”

Hux struggled again. “Get me out. I have no time for this.”

“Sir, allow me to explain,” the physician said. “The severity of your injuries will require extended bacta therapy. In addition to the blaster wounds, you sustained vertebral fractures—"

He made to push off the bottom of the tank. His legs hung uselessly below him. Thrashing his arms, he tried to paddle to the surface. “I don’t care. Get me out. Now.”

The figure outside the tank made frantic gestures. “Sir, I beg you—”

“You _dare_ ,” Hux gasped, still thrashing. “You dare defy the orders of your Supreme Leader?”

The shape that was the physician froze. Other shapes joined him, drew together, shifting uneasily.

“Sir, Supreme Leader Snoke was—”

“Idiots!” he screamed into the mask. “I— _I_ am Supreme Leader now! Do you doubt me? Do as I say or face the consequences.”

The figures outside the tank exploded in a flurry of motion. With a gurgle and a sudden curtain of bubbles, bacta fluid began to drain from the tank.

* * *

Rey stood on tiptoe, peering into an access port at the tip of the Silencer’s wing. The noise of the port made the whirr of one more transport at the bottom of the ramp easy to ignore. A man’s shout wasn’t.

“What’re you doing there?”

Rey spun, her hand going to her blaster. On the other side of the Silencer’s wing, Kylo reached for his lightsaber.

Farsa, the mechanic, jumped out of a small flatbed transport, his beard bristling in outrage.

“Don’t touch that!” He stabbed a finger at the access port. “I thought we had a deal!”

Rey dusted off her hands and eyed the two people climbing out of the transport behind him. “Did we?”

He jerked his chin at the two. “I found you a job. They’ll tell you.”

Rey studied them. The shorter one was a human man wearing a heavily embroidered knee-length caftan. The one in a well-worn pilot’s jacket was a tall Abednedo, with that species’ small, wide-set eyes and barbelled snout. Both studied her, too.

She reached out and felt…about what she’d expect. Cunning. Appraisal. Greed. She met Kylo’s eyes. _Be careful._ She never thought she’d be grateful to have Kylo Ren nearby.

His gaze stayed on hers a moment longer, then Farsa was there poking at the damaged vane of the Silencer’s wing.

“Damaged deflector projector?” he said. “I can see why. You’re lucky you didn’t lose your port cannon.”

Kylo seemed to have an eye on things there, so she walked over to the human and the Abednedo waiting by the Silencer’s opposite wing. “Where’re you going?”

The Abednedo’s small eyes roved hungrily over the fighter. “The Outer Rim,” he said in his deep voice. “We’ll be crossing Harrien space, very dangerous.”

“Soon?” Rey said. It had better be, or they were in trouble.

“As soon as you’re ready.”

The human man gave a little chuckle. Rey looked at him and he coughed.

Rey kept half an eye on Farsa, who was digging a tool into the Silencer’s wing. The Abednedo was still admiring the fighter, going on about what a beauty it was, asking about its weapons complement. She brought her attention back to him and answered. The mechanic’s movement by the wing pulled her away again.

“I’ll need to see your systems status…” he was saying.

He turned and circled the wing, heading for the boarding ladder.

“I’ll show you.” Kylo said, moving to head him off.

A warning prickle went up Rey’s back. _Are they separating us?_ Kylo looked over at her as he reached the ladder. She gave him an acknowledging lift of the chin. It wasn’t like either of them was helpless. He was right—if they thought she and Kylo were marks, they’d find out different.

He started up the boarding ladder, Farsa clumping behind him, his metal hands making clinking noises on the rungs.

The Abednedo was lamenting the loss of his last cargo to pirates, how he didn’t plan for it to happen again. Kylo disappeared through the Silencer’s hatch, Farsa right behind him.

“We already made arrangements with Farsa,” the Abednedo said. “But we still need to discuss your fee.”

“I’ll need to see your flight plan,” Rey said.

“It’s on our ship’s computers.” the human said. “Not far. Just on the other side of that loading dock.”

Rey didn’t glance in the direction he pointed. _Yes, they’re trying to separate us_. _They’re going to try to roll us for that stupid, flashy ship_. She wished for her staff. Quieter than a blaster, and she really hated killing people unless there was absolutely no other choice.

“No, we’ll look it over after the repairs are finished—”

Something stung her neck. She grabbed for it, instantly going dizzy. Panic flared through her. She reached for her blaster, but her hand and arm hung limp. The world spun, tilting. She reached for the Force instead.

_* * *_

Rey’s wariness jangled along Kylo’s nerves. _She doesn’t back down from anything_ , he reminded himself. Not from him, not even from Snoke, who’d terrified most rational people.

“Systems are biometrically keyed in these craft, yes?” Farsa said. “I’ll need you to switch everything on.”

Kylo didn’t need Rey’s warnings to know he didn’t want the mechanic behind him. He turned and fixed the man with a gaze that made him back a step.

“Wait at the hatch.” He added Force persuasion to the command. “Watch the girl.”

Farsa stumbled up the steps to the hatch.

Kylo powered up the fighter and brought flight systems online. “What are they doing?”

“Talking.” The mechanic’s voice drifted down from the hatch.

Kylo rose from the pilot’s seat. “All right. Come take a look.”

Farsa dropped to the deck, a little white around the eyes as he edged around Kylo. He slid into the pilot’s seat, caressing the controls with his metal fingers.

“Beautiful,” he crooned. “What engineering. You don’t find jewels like this every day.”

Kylo narrowed his eyes. “Just check—”

White panic burst on his senses. The Force surged. _Rey!_ Kylo spun and leapt for the hatch.

A blaster bolt whizzed past his head. He twisted, reached out a gloved hand. The blaster jerked free of Farsa’s hand and flew to Kylo’s. The mechanic raised his own hand toward Kylo. An aperture dilated in the palm. With another swift gesture, Kylo ripped off the arm. Farsa screamed. Kylo closed his fist and the scream stopped. Choking, Farsa clawed at his throat with his remaining hand. Kylo yanked him over the pilot’s chair and slammed him headfirst into the rear bulkhead.

Kylo was up and out the hatch in two bounds. Blaster fire converged on him from both sides of the Silencer. Four men. No sign of Rey.

He thrust out his arms and they went tumbling. He sent the blasters of two flying. Leaping the full eight feet to the ground, he flung a third man into the concrete of the docking tower. The last, he gripped around the neck with the Force and lifted into the air.

The man kicked, clawing at his neck and rapidly turning purple.

Kylo bent his arm and brought him closer, close enough he could see the man’s mismatched eyes, one amber and one brown, close enough he could strangle him with his own hands if he decided to. He reached out through the bond. Where he should’ve touched Rey, there was nothing.

“Where,” he grated, “is the girl?”


	8. Repossession

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Kylo Ren demonstrates his Extreme Displeasure with certain persons of Unsavoury Character.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promised you a longer chapter, so here it is. I have to say again how happy your comments and kudos make me! Thanks for sharing the love.

The man mouthed, unable to do more. With an effort, Kylo made himself let go. His victim thudded to the ground. Gasping huge, ragged breaths, he stared up at him in terror.

Kylo leaned down, seized him by the front of the shirt and dragged him close. “ _Where?_ ”

“W-warehouse Oh T-t-ten,” the man choked out.

Kylo grabbed his shoulder and hauled him upright. A passenger transport and a two-seated speeder were parked off to the side, out of view of the fighter’s cockpit. The flatbed transport Farsa and his companions had arrived in was gone. Kylo propelled his captive toward the speeder.

“ _Take me to her_.” It was a command, a compulsion.

With jerky, painful movements, the man climbed on. Kylo took the rear seat, keeping the compulsion clamped tightly, painfully on his mind. The speeder’s engine chuffed, whined, and they zipped into the port’s busy traffic.

A heavy transport trundled across their path. With a gesture, Kylo shoved it away. It groaned and rolled on its repulsors. The boxes of cargo it carried slid into the street. A transport laden with passengers and gear whined, veering around the wreck as the passengers cried out in alarm and their bags went flying. Pedestrians scattered, shrieking, out of the way.

Kylo scanned the traffic over his captive’s head. Rage pulsed bright at the edges of his vision.  _Where is she? Where_ —

 _There_.

There ahead was the tall form of the Abednedo on the flatbed transport. As if feeling the fire of Kylo’s gaze, his long face turned once to look back. Snarling, Kylo reached out with the Force.

The transport stopped as if it had hit a wall. The same power kept the Abednedo and the two others with him from being thrown out. The screech of motivators rose as other vehicles veered around the suddenly frozen transport.

The speeder gave a scream of its own as its enslaved driver brought it to a banking halt. Kylo flung the driver into the street. Still locked by Kylo’s will, he hit hard and didn’t move.

Kylo swung off the speeder, a black storm. On the transport, the Abednedo and two humans with him sat frozen, helpless as Kylo approached. One, a man with a flat face and a wide, thin-lipped mouth, held a heavy blaster pointed in his direction, over the transport’s tarp-covered bed. Kylo lifted a hand and the blaster slowly turned on the two who’d been talking to Rey, the Abednedo and the man in the caftan. The human whimpered. The man holding the blaster made desperate noises as he strained uselessly against Kylo’s will.

“Where is she?” Kylo said. Distantly, he heard the strained, mad edge to his voice.

He thrust into the mind of the man in the caftan. The images of Rey he saw there made him bare his teeth and clench his fist. The man screamed. Bright blood burst from his nose and mouth, spattering the front of his embroidered caftan. He went limp, but Kylo held him so tightly he couldn’t collapse. The Abednedo began burbling in his own language.

“Where?” Kylo said, deathly as the slide of a blade across the throat.

The Abednedo’s eyes flicked down. Kylo jerked the tarp back.

Rey lay sprawled in the transport’s bed. Too pale. Kylo found himself breathing hard, on the edge of losing control. He touched Rey’s outflung hand. The flicker of her unconscious mind met his. Somehow, that centered him again.

“What did you do to her?”

The Abednedo babbled again. The legs of his trousers had gone dark with urine.

“It’s Beam,” the flat-faced man stammered.

“What is Beam?”

The other man couldn’t manage to get words out this time.

“ _Tell me_ ,” Kylo commanded

“Makes ’em…cooperative,” the man gasped.

“I want the antidote,” Kylo said.

“Ain’t one. ’Cept more Beam. They always want more. They’ll do anything, anything you say—” His voice disappeared on a squeak as he mouthed, his eyes bulging.

 _I could kill them. I could crush all three, right here, turn the transport over on top of them and grind them into bloody smears on the ground_.

Kylo’s hand still touched Rey’s. There were more important things right now.

He bent and lifted her in his arms, a slight, limp bundle, and carried her to the speeder. Settling her crosswise on the seat in front of him, he fired the speeder’s engine and swung away, leaving Rey’s kidnappers still frozen behind him.

The traffic that had been so thick moments before seemed to have miraculously disappeared. A little alarm bell went off in the back of his head. He squeezed the speeder’s throttle. It howled, bucked, the front vanes kicking up with acceleration that pressed Rey’s slack body against his. He locked an arm around her to keep her in place.

A blaster bolt whizzed past and hit the pavement ahead, spattering the speeder with red-hot rubble. Kylo whipped around to see a transport swing out of a side street. Blasters bristled from the men crowded on it. Swerving the speeder in erratic arcs as bolts sizzled past, he reached behind him with the Force.

This time, he only stopped the transport. He glanced back once, saw its passengers fly through the air, then tumble across the pavement. He didn’t need to look to know none moved afterward.

Ahead, the traffic thickened again. It would help, but he didn’t relax. More blaster bolts sizzling around him confirmed his instincts. He didn’t look back this time, just squeezed the speeder’s throttle and swerved onto a flyover. A train of towering ore-hauling cars stretched up the ascending ramp. As he came even with the trailing car, he reached out with the Force and gave a mighty wrench.

Beside him, the tall car began to topple. He zipped past as spilling ore rumbled behind him. Pulled by the first, the next car groaned over on its repulsors, then the next. Hunched over Rey, staying just ahead of the slow-motion wreck, Kylo burst onto a landing pad where a huge freighter was docked.

The port spread out around the landing pad’s high vantage. Below and a short distance to his left, the Silencer waited by its docking tower. Pulling Rey close, he sent the speeder howling out into the open air beyond the landing pad.

He almost lost her when the speeder’s repulsors took the impact with the ground. He grabbed her belt, hauling her back onto the seat in front of him. The speeder shuddered once, then steadied, wailing along the street and up the ramp to the landing pad.

He brought the speeder to a banking stop, caught Rey in one arm and let the speeder slide out from under him. Swinging her up over his shoulder, he ran for the fighter.

He felt focus on him, sensed an intent to kill. Even before the popping whistle of blasters came from behind him, he whirled and seized the bolts, turning them into fiery streaks that hummed and crackled in midair. More blaster fire. He stopped those bolts, too.

He panted, one black-gloved hand outstretched, his eyes roving across the blocky structures around him. The attackers were out of sight, behind cover. Probably unnerved at the sight of those bolts, a spitting arc of fire around him. The pause couldn’t last. He’d be vulnerable climbing that docking ladder. Rey, hanging limp over his shoulder, would be even more vulnerable.

He drew a long breath, half-closed his eyes and opened his awareness to the Force.

An illusion of him, Rey over his shoulder, darted across the landing pad to the docking ladder. The gunmen popped up like burrowing rodents, firing. With a single, savage gesture, Kylo wrenched the blasters from their hands and jerked the men forward, into the paths of those frozen blaster bolts. He let his control of the bolts drop away.

The men made a perfect shield from the suddenly released fire. Ignoring the noises behind him, Kylo spun and followed the course his doppelganger had taken to the fighter, up the ladder and in.

He rolled Rey off his shoulder and into the gunner’s seat. The mechanic still lay at the rear of the tiny cabin, his head crooked at an unnatural angle. With a grunt, Kylo heaved him up and out of the hatch, flinging his detached arm after. A sweep of his hand sealed the hatch. He took a moment to belt restraints around Rey then slid into the pilot’s seat.

The Silencer automatically shut down systems if he didn’t engage certain controls. A few swift flicks of his fingers and everything came online again. With a menacing pulse of engines, the fighter rose, weapons systems activating with a whine.

As his altitude increased, more of the port spread out below him. He could see transports swarming toward the landing pad, normal port traffic fleeing the other direction or ducking into buildings. Out of habit, he flipped down targeting arrays, though they’d hardly be necessary now.

Engaging his cannons, he strafed the streets. Craters erupted in pavement. Walls blew inward. Transports carrying armed men turned into so many fireballs. Trailing destruction in his wake, he eased the Silencer forward, sweeping back over streets and buildings toward where he’d found Rey.

There, still frozen in the middle of the deserted street, was the transport, its three passengers only foreshortened toy figures. They would watch him come. They would have time to realize exactly what was about to happen, and who was doing it.  

He slowly strafed the street toward them, green bolts turning pavement to rubble. He adjusted his aim and pounded the surrounding buildings. Chunks of concrete sailed. Roofs collapsed in clouds of dust. He didn’t need the targeting array to pinpoint the transport in the fog of dust. The occupants’ pain and terror told him exactly where it was. He switched from cannons to missile launchers. Breathing hard through his teeth, he closed his fist over the trigger.

A twist of the controls, and the Silencer ripped through the expanding fireball. The spaceport disappeared and only sky and clouds showed through the cockpit viewport. Finally, the indigo sky turned black.

Against the black floated the enormous white wedges of two First Order star destroyers. The dark, threatening shapes of TIE fighters swarmed away from the star destroyers toward him. Kylo jammed the fighter into hyperdrive. The starfield turned into a blue blur.

He dropped back into realspace after only a few seconds, punched a random vector into the flight computer and waited, watching his sensor screens. The computer completed calculations and he jumped to lightspeed again.

Three more times he repeated the operation, choosing vectors at random, spending anywhere from a few seconds to thirty flying through realspace. Every jump to hyperspace exponentially increased the number of calculations required for hyperspace tracking. Five jumps on arbitrary vectors would make him, in practical terms, impossible to trace.

Tracking would be even more impossible after the other ships orbiting Laharna caught sight of those First Order destroyers. Kylo hadn’t been the only pilot to promptly shove his ship into hyperspace the moment he laid eyes on them. In addition to the Silencer’s vector, they’d have a good dozen others to sift through.

Oh, they’d still find him sooner or later. He didn’t hold any wishful thoughts about that. He only gambled that it would be later, and on his terms.

He dropped back to realspace once more. A gas and dust cloud glowing green and purple and gemmed with bluish newborn stars cast strange colors across the cockpit. According to the flight computer, they were far from any solar system. He waited thirty seconds, a minute, then five. Nothing appeared on sensors. He waited some more, then let out a breath, folded away the fighter’s battle controls and stood.

Rey was still slumped in the gunner’s seat, unconscious. A worm of uneasiness crawled through his gut. He returned to the controls and brought up the ship’s onboard databanks.

 _ **BEAM**_ blinked on the screen as the computer searched. Finally, the letters glowed steady and text flowed across the screen.

Kylo read. The more he read, the grimmer he got. He stopped on one line, his stomach knotting: _Valuable for interrogation_.

He closed the search screen. Interrogation. He’d done more than his share of those. He knew the drugs, the methods, though his abilities made such things unnecessary. That didn’t mean he didn’t know exactly what transpired during the usual type of interrogation.

In the gunner’s chair behind him, Rey gasped and jerked.

“It’s all right,” he said. “You’re with me.” Would that be reassuring?

Silence. Maybe not reassuring. Or she might only be looking around, trying to place herself.

“Ben?”

“I’m here.”

“What’s happened to me?”

“You were drugged. You’re feeling the aftereffects.”

“I feel…so strange,” she said in a watery voice.

“Yes.” He could tell her it would pass, but that would be too close to a lie.

Another long silence, then, “Where are we?”

“Nowhere.” That didn’t sound comforting. “Where no one can find us,” he added.

She gave a rasping moan. “I’m gonna be sick—”

 _Oh, yeah_. “Under your seat. There’s a splash bag.”

She bumped in the seat. He heard her scrabble frantically, then retching.

He winced. It went on a long time. He tightened his grip on the fighter’s controls until his hands hurt to keep himself from going to her. Finally, the spasms stopped. Keeping his gaze on the gas cloud beyond the cockpit, he listened to her ragged breaths, waiting for them to even out.

She made a strange, strangled noise and the sound of her breathing stopped entirely.

Kylo was instantly out of his seat and around in front of her. She was doubled over in the gunner’s seat, her arms locked across her middle. Her face was white and strained, her eyes squeezed tightly shut. Sweat glistened on her forehead and tears tracked down her cheeks. When she opened her eyes and looked up at him, there was fear there.

“You’re in withdrawals.” He clenched his fists.

The cords stood out on her neck. Her breath whined through her constricted throat. She bared her teeth and a painful, keening sound came from between them.

Kylo crouched in front of her. Taking her hands, he unfolded her clenched arms. “Breathe, Rey.”

Her mouth opened desperately. That same, terrible whistling came from her throat.

“Breathe!” he said, shaking her.

Her eyes rolled up.

His mouth dry, his heart pounding, he reached into her mind. He made no attempt to ease the intrusion. _Breathe!_

All at once, she straightened, threw back her head and took a whooping breath.

He felt her pain from the withdrawals, the pain from his grip on her mind. He used it to fuel the strength of his command.

_Again!_

Another convulsion of breath, out and in again. He worked her fingers, loosening them, then laid her hands flat on her thighs. When her fingers clawed, he pressed his own over them. Her eyes on him were desperate and terrified and swimming with tears.

He took a steadying breath and relaxed his grip on her mind.

“Close your eyes.” He meant his voice to be gentle, but it rasped too much for that.

If she heard him, she didn’t register what he said. Her eyes darted everywhere, as if seeking escape.

“Rey.”

Her gaze landed on him, fixed.

“ _Listen to me_ ,” he commanded. “Close your eyes.”

Her eyes squeezed shut, though they still moved frantically under the lids. Her breath halted, halted again.

“Breathe. Relax. You have to relax. You have to try.”

He could feel her convulsions fighting to overcome his command.

He wet his lips, calmed and centered himself with an effort. It had been long time since he’d tried anything like this.

“Look inside you,” he said. “Find what’s wrong in your body and bring it to balance.”

She twitched and strained under his hands. Her whole face and neck were shiny with sweat now. She breathed enough to whimper, stopped, then gasped, shuddering.

“Rey,” he whispered. “Relax. Look inside.” He rubbed his thumbs back and forth across her wrists. “Relax.”

Agonizing minutes slid past. Even holding her mind, he couldn’t compel her to use the Force.

Finally, he felt her touch it. Her explosive breaths slowly eased. Her shudders quieted, her face relaxed. Under his hands, her rigid muscles softened. He breathed with her, slowly in, slowly out.

She seemed to be bringing the withdrawals under control. It was a light side technique. Kylo didn’t want to question too closely why he’d turned to it.

 He stayed where he was, his hands covering hers, watching her. She was so fiery, always in motion. He so rarely saw her like this—calm now, quiet. It was somehow alluring, like…like watching leaves against a summer sky. He felt he could watch forever.

She opened her eyes. Caught, he lifted his hands and stood.

She reached out and took one. “Ben.” She looked up at him, then sagging, closed her eyes again. “Thank you.”

He swallowed once but didn’t pull away. “I thought it might be bad,” he said. “I didn’t know it would be that bad. I should have.”

 _One dose, and they’ll do anything you say_. She still held his hand, so he kept from clenching his fists.

Frowning, she opened her eyes and shook her head. “What happened back there? I thought they were getting ready to try stealing your ship.”

“They did try to steal my ship.” He paused. “And you.”

She blinked. “Me! Why?”

He only looked at her.

“Oh.” The shocked realization on her face changed to appalled fury. “Those—!”

“They won’t,” he said, “do it again,”

He could see the question in her eyes, but she didn’t ask it. She already knew what he was capable of. _Monster_ , he thought. But that wasn’t what was in her eyes.

Not this time.

* * *

Surprisingly, the fighter had a bunk. Rey eyed it as Kylo folded it down from the rear bulkhead, a neat little arrangement tightly made up in the usual First Order dark grey. Or maybe not so little. Since it was Kylo Ren-sized, it was quite a bit longer and wider than she was.

“This ship is designed to also serve as a personal shuttle,” he explained. “It’s better equipped than the usual fighter.”

“Okay,” she said.

“You’ll need to rest,” he said in a businesslike tone at odds with the…was it _awkwardness?_...she sensed from him. He turned, took the few steps back to the cockpit and installed himself there.

Rey tugged off her boots, pulled back the blanket and lay down. She felt like she’d been poisoned, beaten with her own staff and dumped on Jakku’s dunes. Even after drinking the water Kylo had offered, her mouth tasted like she’d kissed a happabore. Her thoughts were still fuzzy and sliding from the drug, and every once in a while, her stomach gave a threatening roll. She wiggled around on the hard, thin mattress, trying to find a position that didn’t hurt.

 _Breathe_ , she heard him whisper in her mind, only memory now. Her head still pounded from his intrusion. He’d been gentler when he’d interrogated her on Starkiller Base.

But she remembered how she’d been suffocating, and no matter how desperately she wanted to, she couldn’t make her lungs work. Then he was _there_ , relentless, giving her no choice but to obey…

She should be shaken. No, she should be terrified. She wasn’t. Why not?

She still felt the warmth of his large hands on hers, the way his slow, steady breaths had guided hers, like for those endless, agonizing minutes, he was _part_ of her.

She shied away from the idea. _Sleep_ , she told herself sternly, but her eyes wandered to the pilot’s seat and the dark crown of Kylo’s head.

Ben Solo had been the one who’d come after her. Kylo Ren had—had done whatever he’d done afterwards. Kylo Ren had forced himself into her mind, then Ben Solo had shown her how to heal herself.

The only question was, how much was Ben, and how much was Kylo Ren?

* * *

Sleep finally pulled Rey down, sodden exhaustion drowning her in darkness. There, in the dark, a dream touched the edge of her mind. She started as if at a physical touch, then turned toward it.

It was night in the dream, though pearly light from the galaxy’s core blazed bright enough in the sky to cast shadows. Night creatures made a pulsing hum, and the soft, musky smell of some unfamiliar flower rode the cool air. A cushion of grass giving under her feet, Rey turned slowly and looked around. She stood on a small rise over a cluster of timber huts or small houses, all dark and quiet.

A hooded figure moved among them in absolute silence—no pad of footsteps, no brush of clothing. Foreboding prickled across Rey’s skin. The figure paused outside the nearest building, pushed the door open and slipped inside. She followed, just as silent.

She should’ve been blind in the thick darkness inside but found she could see perfectly well. In a narrow bed against one wall, someone slept. She could see a long form under a blanket, the curve of a shoulder, a brush of black hair across the pillow. The hooded figure stood over the sleeper for a long moment, one hand extended toward it. The Force rippled.

The hand fell. Rey’s breath sped. There was the _vhissh_ of a lightsaber igniting. Its sudden glow bathed the small chamber in eerie green light.

Hot fury ripped through her. Her own hand whipped up. She reached for the Force and the lightsaber wrenched away, smacked into her open hand.

The hooded figure spun and they were face-to-face. Luke.

On Ahch-To, there had been nothing but shock in his face when she’d raised a lightsaber to him. Now, there was fear.

She breathed hard. He was afraid? _He_ was?

She raised the lightsaber above her head, ready to end all the terror that sleeping boy would feel when he woke in the night to murder. All the terror the man felt when the dream came—

Rey jerked awake. She was breathing hard, her hands clenched over her chest as if on the hilt of a lightsaber. She swallowed, trying to moisten her dry mouth.

By the deep thrum of the engines, the Silencer still ran through realspace. There was no sound from Kylo in the pilot’s chair. As quietly as in her dream, she pushed down the blanket covering her, stood and slipped forward, past the gunner’s chair.

Kylo sat slumped in his seat, his chin on his chest, legs stretched out and arms folded. Seeing him like that, eyes closed, quiescent, she abruptly realized how truly formidable he was when awake. How much of her own strength she had to muster to brace against him. Asleep, he looked…

He looked a lot like that boy in the hut.

He twitched in his sleep and a flicker of some dreaming emotion passed over his face. Shifting a little, he gave a sigh and relaxed again.

Rey watched him a little longer, then eased back and returned to her bunk.

* * *

Even when exhausted, Kylo rarely slept deeply. He hadn’t been able to for a long, long time. It meant that no one could creep up on him again in his sleep, but it never stopped the dream.

The green glow pressed against his eyelids again. Again, the terror of knowing, _knowing_ what was about to happen throttled him. As always, he struggled to escape it, to change it, to wake. But like always, he opened his eyes in the dream and rolled over, sleepy and bewildered—

This time, his uncle didn’t stand over him, humming lightsaber ready to kill him as he slept. Instead, Luke’s back was to him. The terrible green glow illuminated… He blinked. _Rey?_

Her face was incandescent with rage. She gripped the lightsaber, raised in deadly promise over Luke. Kylo twitched back, amazed…

And woke.

He felt Rey near, watching him, sensed the disturbed purl of her thoughts against his. Anyone else he’d already have thrown across the cabin. As it was, only sheer, relentless force of will kept him quiet, his eyes closed, muscles relaxed, his breathing even. Breath after breath slipped by. At last, she retreated again. He heard her lie down and the whisper of the blanket as she pulled it over her.

Listening as her breathing evened and deepened, he waited for the black rage, the driving need to _destroy destroy destroy_ that always followed the dream.

It didn’t come. There was only…what? An odd _relief_ , like a spring twisted too tight finally loosened. A single drop of comfort that spread over the heaving churn of his thoughts.

Wondering at it, he sank into sleep again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I took a few liberties with Kylo's TIE Silencer, one of which is the gunner's seat. The Silencer is actually a one-man craft. Since I discovered the Silencer is supposed to double as a personal shuttle, I decided it would reasonable that it would include a bunk and supplies.


	9. Gathering Storm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Kylo's options begin to narrow.

Hux guided his repulsor-chair along the _Finalizer’s_ corridors—the chair _Kylo Ren_ had put him in by riddling him with blaster bolts and throwing him down a corridor. Every time his personal attendant, a hulking man with strength and bulk enough to lift him, helped him in or out of that chair, Hux made sure to remind himself of that little fact. Every time he needed help dressing or tending to his personal needs.

He should have, he supposed, remained in the bacta tank. But one didn’t rule the First Order from a bacta tank, and he had no intention of risking the opportunity to some underling’s ambition.

His attendant lumbered along behind, his booted footsteps echoing over the chair’s hum. The chair moved more quickly than a person could comfortably walk, but the man could trot interminably.

At an automated signal from the chair, double doors whisked open ahead of him, opening onto the assembly chamber. The staff quickly rose at his entrance. The white jackets of his intelligence chiefs glowed against the gleaming black of the walls, the black of space visible beyond the triangular viewports, the glossy black table.

He maneuvered the chair to his place at the head of the table. The security personnel remained standing at attention as his attendant poured water from the carafe, set the glass within reach and stepped back.

Silence held for the space of three breaths as Hux’s gaze travelled slowly over the men and women around him.

“Report,” Hux snapped finally.

Darvis Klee, head the First Order’s Intelligence Section, straightened, the spare, unforgiving lines of his face impassive. “Kylo Ren was tracked to the spaceport on Laharna, Supreme Leader. The spaceport is nominally managed by the Sha’han Mining Systems Alliance, but is in fact run by the Tento Syndicate, an organized crime ring. We were able to ascertain little of Ren’s purpose there—he destroyed much of the spaceport and killed the Tento gang members he interacted with before escaping.”

“Escaping,” Hux said, putting every bit of his disapproval into the word.

The woman in charge of information analysis spoke—Hux couldn’t remember her name. A glorified technician not worth remembering. “Supreme Leader, hyperspace tracking was ineffective. A number of other ships jumped to hyperspace when Kylo Ren’s ship did. The pursuit craft sent out on possible vectors found some of those other ships, but not him.”

Hux folded his hands on the table in front of him and fought to keep from grinding his teeth. “Perhaps I wasn’t clear.” He was pleased at how cool and crisp his voice sounded. “I want Kylo Ren found. I don’t want explanations of why he wasn’t. I don’t want excuses. I want him found, and I want incontrovertible evidence that he is dead. Not an eye, or a hand, both of which he can survive without. His head will do nicely, as long as it’s perfectly preserved. Place a bounty high enough to make it impossible for him to find refuge anywhere in the galaxy. Use our technology. Use your spies. Use bounty hunters. Use these gangsters he insulted. Use the rebels—their precious princess died in our care on his watch. I don’t care how it’s done. I want it done. Have I made myself clear?”

Murmurs of, “Yes, Supreme Leader,” came from around the table.

He waved a black-gloved hand. “You’re dismissed.”

The intelligence people filed out, bowing their heads to him as they passed.

His hands still folded in front of him, Hux sat at the meeting table, fighting a very Kylo Ren-like impulse to destroy something.

The quiet voice of his attendant behind him brought him back to himself. “Supreme Leader, Aruel Helomuth wishes to consult with you regarding the coronation. She wishes to know what venue you decided on, and certain details of the military parade.”

Hux breathed out. His temper was no doubt due to the pain of his half-healed wounds. Fits of rage were beneath him. He hadn’t gotten where he was now by indulging personal whims. He’d killed his own _father_ to clear the way. Although, if he wanted to be honest with himself, his father would likely have done the same had the situation been reversed.

“Coruscant, I think,” Hux mused. “It seems fitting that the Supreme Leader of the First Order should be crowned at the capital of both the Old Republic and the Empire. Perhaps, if it pleases me, I’ll make it my own capital.”

“An excellent idea, Supreme Leader, his attendant murmured.

* * *

In a system so remote it was identified on navigation charts only by number, a small yacht with elegant lines dropped out of hyperspace. Immediately cloaking, it flew toward a gas giant layered with swirls of blue and turquoise and teal, the second planet circling the white dwarf star. The yacht went into a polar orbit around the planet, scanning for other ships. When the pilot was certain he was alone, he adjusted course for one of the planet’s many moons.

Though the moon’s environment was benign, it hosted no cities, no outposts, no bases, not even sentient life. A perfect place for a quiet meeting far from curious eyes.

Patiently orbiting, the pilot scanned the moon, too. _Ah! The first to arrive_ , he thought. _Very good_.

He angled his craft in a landing trajectory. His shields glowed red as he entered the atmosphere—the only telltale of his presence, if anyone was there to see. There wasn’t.

The yacht lost velocity and the rumble and vibration of entry faded. Clouds wisped past to reveal the browns and greens and greys of land. Blotches of color resolved into low, rocky hills. He eased the ship down into a dell among the hills, under a grove of trees at the bottom, then powered down the engines.

Leaving his ship’s cloaking system activated, the pilot stood and went aft to gather supplies. He strapped a blaster to one leg, clipped his lightsaber to his belt and put on his mask. He slung a small pack over one shoulder, lowered the boarding ramp and stepped out into the pale sunlight. Checking his directional marker, he struck off into the hills, the rocky soil crunching under his boots.

Now it was only a matter of finding a suitable spot to await the others’ arrival.

* * *

“You were right about Laharna.” Kylo held out the Silencer’s toolkit like a peace offering. “It was a bad idea.”

Rey blinked. “Yeah, it was.” She pointedly ignored the toolkit. “What happened to ‘cutting-edge First Order technology?’”

“What happened to ‘I can fix anything?’” he shot back.

It always surprised him when he found himself teasing her—though he _wasn’t_ surprised that she’d rebuffed his past attempts. Even if she did this time, too, it might at least keep the questions at bay. Like, _Why are we here?_ And, _What are we going to do now?_

Thankfully, he’d been the first to wake on the ship. He’d jumped to lightspeed and dropped out of hyperspace again above his destination before she rolled out of the bunk, groggy and interestingly grumpy.

That destination was a moon orbiting a gas giant. Arrangements had been made years ago to come here should a certain event occur: Snoke’s death. And now that Snoke was in fact dead, there were certain decisions to be made.

Here, where he’d landed the fighter, it was late afternoon. The parent planet loomed as a fiery blue crescent that arced across half the sky. When the sun disappeared behind it, night would come very quickly. Dry grass rustled in the breeze that swept low, rocky hills dotted with wide-canopied trees.

Rey was eying him, one hand on hip. If she still had a blaster, it would’ve ridden that thigh. A subtle threat? Not conscious, if it was, he decided. The suspicion he sensed from her told him she knew perfectly well he was avoiding her questions.

She heaved an annoyed sigh and took the toolkit. “Okay. Let’s see what we can do.”

She carried the toolkit to the Silencer’s damaged wing and plunked it down in the grass. Then, she vaulted to the wing and scuttled along it until she was just behind the upper port cannon, above the still-open access port for the deflector projector.

 _Scavenger_ , Kylo thought. He hadn’t thought of her that way, _really_ thought, until now. That athletic jump, those competent, practiced movements as she positioned herself to work in an awkward place. How strange that what he felt as he watched her wasn’t contempt, but admiration.

He handed her tools as she worked and tried not to wince as she banged and twisted and pried. The sun descended toward the gas giant’s bright limb.

“Ha!” She suddenly straightened, grinning. “Got it!”

She dropped neatly to the ground, triumphant. With a flourish, she presented a bent and ruptured cylinder. “ _This_ was your problem. I just replaced it with a piece of the conduction tube from one of the solar collectors. You’ll be down about a terajoule of recharging capacity until we can replace it, but you’ve got forward deflectors now.”

Kylo watched the light in her face, entranced. _If she turns to the dark, I’ll never see this,_ he thought.

The light flickered and dimmed. “What?” she said.

He gathered himself with an effort. “Some people are coming.”

She frowned, and suspicion snuffed the light entirely. “ _People_. What people?”

“People I don’t want to notice you.”

“Why?”

“If things go the way I plan,” he said, avoiding the question, “we won’t have to keep running from the First Order. I’ll be in a position to make my own terms.”

He’d been keeping an eye on the sky for signs of landing craft. A flash and a streak of incandescent gas marked the first. The sun began its slide behind the planet’s edge. Strange, bluish half-shadows glided across the landscape.

“Ben,” she said. “What’s going on?”

He plunged in. “We were to meet here if Snoke died. I—and the Knights of Ren.”

She was still frowning. Luke hadn’t told her.

“The students who came with me—”

“After you ran from Luke.” He could see her piecing it together. “To Snoke.” She shifted away.

He resisted an impulse to reach for her. “I’m the master of the Knights of Ren. They’ll follow me. But I won’t take any chances.”

He’d seen little of them in the years since they’d joined Snoke. Kylo strongly suspected Snoke arranged it that way. Keep them apart, make sure they stayed divided, and they could never muster the strength to turn against him. Had Snoke told the others the same thing he’d told Kylo? _You’re the best among you. The strongest. You’re master of them all_.

The only difference was, Kylo knew he truly _was_ the strongest.

“You’re not armed,” Kylo went on. “As far as they know, you’re—”

“Nobody,” she said the same time he did.

“Yes,” he said.

Her face went hard. “Why did you bring me here?”

“What else should I have done with you?” he said, baffled.

She glared at him, then turned and threw tools back into the toolkit. “Fine. I’m the mechanic. Better yet, tell them the truth—I’m a scavenger you picked up on Jakku.” She shot him another venomous glance. “ _Nobody_.”

“Rey—”

The whine of a ship’s engines cut him off. A sleek, tri-wing shuttle extended landing gear and settled a short distance away. Straightening, Kylo turned his attention to the two cloaked figures descending the boarding ramp.

* * *

The sun disappeared behind the huge planet. A weird, bluish light bathed the grassy hills around them, not twilight, but light beaming from that sky-spanning crescent. Watching the two approaching figures, Rey swallowed, suddenly and unaccountably cold.

 _I’ve seen them before_ , she realized with a jolt. In the vision she’d had in Maz Kanata’s basement. The vision where she’d seen Kylo Ren for the first time, that line of terrible masked and cloaked forms standing behind him. How many had there been? Too many.

As in her vision, they were masked and cloaked in black. One wore a flared helmet and bandolier. Armor bulked on the other’s chest and shoulders. They stopped and turned as another ship descended, a hunched, aggressive, hammerhead shape. In a few minutes, a third individual joined the first two, this one hooded and carrying a spear or staff.

 _I’ll be drowning in darksiders_ , she thought wildly, then sternly settled herself. _Come on, Rey. You’ve done this before. They can’t be as bad as Snoke_.

She hadn’t been armed _then_ , either.

“Barrath,” Kylo said, bending his head. “Ilko. Jaenk.”

The last Knight, the one with the spear, stepped forward. “Kylo. Where is your mask?”

Through the modulator, it was hard to tell if the voice was a man’s or a woman’s. For some reason, Rey thought it was a woman.

“Snoke is dead,” Kylo said. Avoiding the question, or answering it?

Rey sensed his watchfulness, like a man standing in a snake pit. She thought of him in Snoke’s throne room, that same, quiet watchfulness, somehow so familiar—

Because it was exactly the way _she_ felt then, the way she felt now. _But they’re on the same side_ —

“You killed our master,” the hooded one said. “Or so we heard.”

“He was _weak_ ,” Kylo spat. “Unbalanced. Obsessed with Skywalker.”

“Who is obsessed with Skywalker?” said the one with the bandolier, jeering faintly.

“ _One_ Jedi. One old man, gone how many years now?” Kylo said. “He wasn’t strong enough to kill me even then. If he isn’t already dead, he might as well be. Skywalker is nothing.”

“We didn’t come here to talk about Skywalker,” said the armored one.

“No. We’re here to decide who will rule,” Kylo said. “There are four of us here now, a quorum. What we decide will bind all seven of us.”

“You seem anxious,” Bandolier said. “Why not wait for the other three?”

“The choice is obvious,” Kylo said.

“Is it?” the hooded one purred.

“I’m Master of the Knights of Ren. The title of Supreme Leader is mine by right.”

 _No_ , Rey thought. _Oh, no_.

“Yet you betrayed the First Order with some rebel girl. Or so we heard.”

Rey felt the woman’s gaze and made herself stand absolutely still.

“We also heard it wasn’t you alone who killed our Master,” said the one in armor.

Kylo clenched his fists. “ _I_ killed him. While he taunted and preened and congratulated himself on his invincibility, I _cut_ him in _half_. His mouth gaped open in shock when he saw the lightsaber blade in him. The lightsaber under _my_ control, the one _I_ ignited.” He straightened. “The Supreme Leader. Who couldn’t be betrayed. Who couldn’t be beaten. I did _both_. I defeated Snoke. I defeated Skywalker. And you question me?”

“We question the man on the run from the First Order.” Bandolier said. “There’s a bounty on your head, Kylo. Did you know that? What power do you bring us by joining you? We can have all the power we want when we bring in the Supreme Leader’s murderer.”

“You won’t have power,” Kylo sneered. “You’ll be hounds for a man whose greatest purpose is his own ambition. You’ll be parts in a mindless machine.”

“Honored parts. Valued parts. Of something sweeping across the galaxy,” Armor said. “With you? We’ll be no better than the Jedi. A vanished order hunted to extinction.”

“I’ve set you free!” Kylo shouted.

There it was, that savage flash of temper. The same flash he’d shown when she’d pleaded, _Don’t go this way_. Rey didn’t understand him, what was driving him. What he wanted to be free _from_. Snoke? The First Order? No, that rage said it was something else—something deeper.

Kylo’s voice evened and lowered. “We have power. We can make the galaxy what we choose. No one will stop us.”

Rey wanted to shake him, shout at him.

The three masked figures were moving, fanning out around Kylo.

“I wouldn’t be so sure,” Armor said, the one who seemed most reasonable. “Snoke controlled the First Order. _You_ —do not.”

“You overvalue yourself,” the spearwoman said. “Again. Always. Snoke made us what we are. He made us powerful. Feared. What will you make us?”

“The same,” Kylo growled. “Unless you’re afraid to step out of the First Order’s shadow.” He ignited his lightsaber.

Standing in the shadow of Silencer’s wing, it was all Rey could do to keep from wrapping her arms around herself. _Powerful_. _Feared_. That was what he wanted? She could sense him. He wasn’t lying. He wasn’t only trying to sway them. He meant it.

Two more lightsabers ignited, their red glow turning the blue shadows purple. The third was a spear with a blazing red point. The weapons came up. In a silent rush, all three converged on Kylo.

 _Now_ , a detached little voice in the back of her mind said. _While they’re fighting, you can get away._ _You’d_ better _get away_.

She’d seen plenty of brawls and feuds on Jakku. The farther you stayed away, the better your chances of staying alive. And right now, that ship behind her was her best chance.

She eased back along the wing toward the cockpit. There were no lights inside to show her silhouette. The flash and whine of the lightsabers would cover any sound she made until she fired up the engines. Then—

The woman made a jab with her light-spear. Kylo threw off the two men with a shove and kick and barely knocked the thrust aside. As it was, it cut a flaming slash in his tunic. Twisting, he grabbed the spear as it slid past and gave a powerful yank. The woman spun, disengaging and sending the point hissing past his ear.

Rey found herself still standing in the same spot. _Get out!_ she told herself. _Now!_

Her feet wouldn’t move.

 _What’re you going to do? You don’t even have a weapon_ —

 _Yes, I do_.

They must not know what she was. If they did, she wouldn’t still be standing here. _Nobody_. Kylo had given her that, anyway. They wouldn’t bother thinking about _nobody_.

Closing her eyes, she reached out through the Force. Not violently, as she had on the _Finalizer_ , but gently, delicately. She felt her way into the ground under her feet, teeming, glowing, vibrant with life.

There were insects there, disturbed by the crushing and tromping above them. _You can stop it_ , she told them.

They scurried out of their burrows, hundreds, thousands, hundreds of thousands of them. They found a booted foot, then another, scuttled up, up, a biting, stinging, fiery cloak of pain. A cry came, a snarl. Slipping away again, Rey barely heard it.

Roots held the soil tight. Gliding through it, she snipped them, thread by hair-thin thread. She drew water up, spread it like a thin sheet of lubricant. A foot fell, pushed…

And slipped. A body hit the ground hard, rolled frantically. But not fast enough. A crackling red thrust, and it fell still.

She reached again—

Something seized her. Rey snapped her eyes open. Someone gripped her with the Force the way Snoke had, yanking her forward, toward Kylo. He and the spear-carrying Knight clashed and circled. His back was toward her as the spearbearer pressed him.

Time telescoped. Slowly, so slowly, she hurtled toward him. She opened herself to the Force again—

And fell into Kylo’s mind. The world had shrunk down to him and his opponent, the jabbing and slashing red spearpoint, the burn of his muscles, the sear where blades had bitten on arm and ribs. He felt something behind him, parried a thrust and began to turn.

She felt him raise his arm, saw the arc his blade would take. _Yes_ , she thought distantly _. Just there_.

Rey snapped back behind her own eyes. Kylo’s opponent raised her spear and opened her hand, ready for his instant of distraction.

Sailing above the ground, Rey tucked up her feet and threw her weight forward, using her momentum to push herself into a tumbling roll. Kylo’s blade crackled a slow, red arc beneath her, close enough to shear the back of her tunic and flying hair. She extended her arms as she reached him, braced her hands on his shoulders and pushed off. His face passed in a startled blur, then she was rolling through the air again, over the spearwoman’s hunched form.

Rey landed, bending her knees to absorb the impact. The spearpoint was already slashing a deadly red circle toward her, but she was inside its arc. She brought up her hands and shoved the woman hard.

Force-enhanced reflexes caught the last Knight. She wheeled—

Right onto the point of Kylo’s lightsaber. She hung there a long instant. The spear fell from her hands. Kylo jerked out the blade and she crumpled.

Panting, black hair dripping sweat, lightsaber still blazing, he turned. Rey found herself panting, too, the smell of burned hair and fabric in her nostrils, the air cold on her back through her slashed tunic. All three Knights lay in the grass. A chitinous mass of insects still swarmed over the one with the bandolier. Kylo’s lightsaber whispered into its hilt.

He closed the distance between them in one long step. “Rey—”

He reached up, touched her hair. His glove came away grey with strings of ash.

“I almost killed you.” His voice shook.

Rey didn’t answer. If she did, her voice wouldn’t just shake. It would break.

He looked around at the sprawled bodies again, bent down and picked up the extinguished light-spear.

 “It looked like you were used to a thrusting weapon. When you fought me on Starkiller Base.” He held out the spear.

Rey stared at him a long moment, teeth clenched. She swallowed, swallowed again, then turned and walked away, not caring where—as long as it was away from him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kylo just can't get galactic domination out of his mind.


	10. Ambush

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which things go very badly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I haven't thanked everybody lately for all the love. Your comments and kudos and subscriptions really mean a lot to me!

Kylo rocked back in confusion as she stormed away. “Rey? What— Where are you going?”

“ _Away!_ ”

“What? Why?”

She spun and just stared at him, breathing hard. He could feel her on the edge of tears.

He took a step toward her, held out a hand. “Rey—”

“ _Leave me alone_ ,” she snarled. “Just get in your ship and go.” She turned her back on him again.

 She wasn’t headed toward one of the other ships. The way it looked, her course would take her into the dimming, empty hills.

“There’s nothing here,” he said.

“ _Good_.”

Confusion turned to irritation. “What are you going to do? Turn hermit, like Luke?”

She stopped, head bent, fists clenched at her sides. “Why not? At least it’s something I understand.”

He sensed her pain and anger and disappointment. And…something else. Something darker. He didn’t understand any of it. Cautiously, he approached. He paused just beyond arm’s reach.

“Look at what you did here.” He swept a hand toward the battlefield. “What you did on the _Finalizer_. You can never go back to that life.”

“If I’d never set foot off Jakku, today, right now, I’d still be scavenging salvage to sell to Unkar Plutt.”

“Maybe. But even before I found you on Takodana, I sensed you through the Force. So had Snoke. One way or another, you’d’ve been pulled out of that life.”

She whirled. He tensed, half-expecting an attack.

“And you’d’ve been the one to do it.”

He flinched. An attack, but not a physical one.

“What would happen to me if they’d agreed to join you?” She gestured to the fallen Knights. “Four of you…and me.”

He took a step closer. “Nothing would happen to you.”

“No, you’d just try to turn me.”

“No—”

“Yes. Hasn’t that been the idea all along?”

He drew breath, then admitted the appalling truth. “I don’t want you to turn.”

“Don’t lie to me, _Kylo_.” She used the name like a blade. It cut like one.

“I’ve never lied to you, Rey. Not once.”

“Then you’re lying to yourself. You said the same thing to them you said to me. _Join_ me. _Rule_ with me.”

It returned to him, the look on her face when he’d asked her on the _Supremacy_. The pain. The sorrow.

The same pain and sorrow he saw now. Why? He offered her more than she could ever have dreamed. _What more could he do?_

“Why shouldn’t you?” He took another step closer, aggressively this time. “Why _wouldn’t_ you?”

“Don’t.” Raising her chin, she met his eyes the way she’d met Snoke’s.

Like _Snoke’s_. No _._

“Listen to me.”

That hard look didn’t crack. “I’m done listening to you.”

“No, no, just _listen_.” He heard his voice rising and calmed himself. “Please.”

She folded her arms and fixed him with no very inviting gaze.

“You’re right,” he said. “I would’ve been the one to go after you. I would’ve found you in your dusty little Jakku life and brought you to Snoke. I’d’ve stood by while he tried to turn you, and when he killed you when you wouldn’t. But something else happened instead. Somehow you and I were bound together. I don’t understand it. I’ve never heard of anything like it before. But it has to mean something. I want to find out what it is.” She was listening now. He took a chance and pushed. “Don’t you?”

Her silence stretched much too long. “Not like this,” she finally said. “I can’t do this anymore.”

* * *

He lurched toward her.

Rey flinched back, her hands whipping up to protect herself. The same instant, she registered the red flash, the sound of a blaster firing. Kylo went down.

“Ben!” she screamed.

Gasping, he wallowed to his feet, igniting his lightsaber as he went. Blaster fire streaked all around them. With a roar of fury, he spun his lightsaber in a blurred circle of red, deflecting shots. Rey seized the shoulder of his tunic and tried to pull him down again.

“Get to the ship!” Kylo snarled.

Hot wetness slicked her hand where she gripped him. There was a shredded place in his tunic over his shoulder. The sudden, thick smell of blood rose.

Her heart seemed to stop. “No, _you_ get to the ship!”

She could see where the shots came from, but not the shooter. She thrust out a hand to snatch the blaster away.

“Don’t—!” Kylo shouted.

Force gripped her, pulling her right into the line of fire. She screamed.

* * *

Kylo, too, reached for the Force. The blaster bolts stopped before they hit Rey, shivering in the air centimeters from her. Baring his teeth, he turned to rip the blaster from the shooter’s hand. A steel coil of Force wrapped him, jerked him forward. Using the white-hot sear of pain in his shoulder to fuel his power, he threw his strength back against the pull. It was enough to do what he intended and break the hold on Rey.

With a shriek, she fell into the grass. For just an instant, the blaster fire stopped. Kylo let the hovering bolts go. They pounded into the trees, spattering sparks and flaming wood.

“Ardred!” Kylo screamed into the night. “Coward!”

He didn’t need to see who was behind that blaster. He knew exactly which of the Knights of Ren would choose ambush over facing an enemy directly.

The blaster fire started again. Sweating, Kylo panted as he batted away bolts with his lightsaber, every swing of his arm nearly blinding him with pain.

Rey was crawling through the grass toward the battlefield. _Not_ toward the ship. She seized Jaenk’s light-spear and ignited it. Rolling to her feet, she gave a fierce scream and ran toward the shooter, flicking the spear back and forth. Bolts sizzled through the air around her, missing her more because of her wildly zigzagging course than because of her blundering attempts to deflect them.

For an instant, Kylo stood frozen in disbelieving horror. Then he saw. _She’s drawing his fire_. As if she’d spoken aloud, her plan came to him. Maybe it had, through their bond.

Lightsaber raised, he backed toward the Silencer. Ardred sent shots Kylo’s way. Every time he did, Rey rushed forward, diving, rolling, then zigzagging again.

Ardred had locked himself into one strategy—shooting at them. He couldn’t use the Force against them, as Rey had discovered. They could counteract anything he tried. And now Rey was forcing Ardred to choose targets.

Kylo gained the fighter’s boarding ladder. It took all the pain searing through him to keep his arm moving, to avoid those blaster bolts ready to finish him. He could smell his blood and burned flesh, feel the grinding of bone on bone.

Rey screamed a battle cry, the red blade of the light-spear waving scant meters from Ardred’s position. Kylo heaved himself up the ladder and tumbled, gasping, into the Silencer’s cockpit.

 _Rey!_ he sent to her. _Get back now!_

He powered up the ship with a few practiced flicks of his fingers. Outside, shots still streaked the darkness, concentrating on the beacon of the light-spear. Suddenly, it arced through the air, toward the shooter.

From Rey, he felt fury, focus—no desperation. She knew what she was doing, throwing her weapon away. He could guess her strategy: if the spear struck true, good. If not, it was a good distraction as she retreated.

Blaster fire started up again in earnest. Kylo counted one breath, two, three. In the brief red flashes, he saw her crouched low, darting back and forth toward the Silencer. He toggled to mag-pulse cannons, sighted on the spot those shots came from and fired.

Green bolts lanced out. A fiery ball ignited. Smoke and dust and rubble exploded outward, lit lurid orange from within. The fierce blaze died, leaving only sparks falling through the night air.

Pain made his vision ripple. “Come on,” he said under his breath. “ _Come_ _on_.”

Finally, a darker shadow stumbled out of the dust. His hand tightened on the trigger.

But the figure pounding toward the Silencer was a familiar, slim one. He kept his thumb poised over the trigger, his eyes on the curtain of dust behind her. Rey’s feet clattered up the boarding ladder. Her breaths were loud and ragged as she dropped to the deck.

He sealed the hatch and fired the engines. The fighter swept up in a breath-squeezing rush.

* * *

Blood was everywhere. Rey’s hands and feet were slippery with it from the ladder. Red painted terrible splashes across the Silencer’s little cabin. A bloody handprint marked the headrest of the gunner’s seat.

“Ben—” she gasped.

“Belt in,” Kylo said. “There are still two more.”

 _Two more what?_ she started to ask, then realized. Two more Knights of Ren.

She did as he said, her eyes fixed on the trail of blood at her feet. Acceleration shoved her into the restraints. The shudder and roar of the fighter’s rush through the atmosphere filled the cabin. Both force and noise gradually diminished, and wedges of pale sunlight burst through the cockpit viewport and swept the bulkheads. The light vanished, and the sub-audible vibration of the hyperdrive pulsed through the ship.

Rey popped the restraints, leapt out of her seat and swung around to Kylo’s.

His face was grey and filmed with sweat. Blood pooled on the deck under the pilot’s seat. His breaths had an alarming gurgle to them. He didn’t look at her, his gaze fixed on the blue streaks of hyperspace outside.

Rey clenched her fists and swallowed hard.

“Ben.” No response. “ _Kylo_.” She took his face in her hands, forcing him to look at her. “Can I fix this?”

His gaze focused for a moment. “The way…I showed you.”

She took a long breath, opened herself to the Force and pushed into him.

A great, dark power rose up in front of her—

Then stepped aside.

It was exactly like when she’d looked into her own body. His pain rolled over her like a sand-slide, sickening and blinding. The torn blood vessels, the shredded muscle, the shattered bone were her own, all balance gone. She struggled to separate herself from the pain so she could function.

How many injured people had she seen in her life? Too many, more than she could count. Bleeding was always the first thing that would kill you. She touched the spurting veins, sealing them off. Pain crackled all around like a thunderstorm. She opened herself to it again, to calm it—

The darkness waiting at her shoulder gathered her up and pushed her out.

Rey blinked back into herself. Kylo’s head was tilted back, his eyes closed.

“Leave the pain,” he slurred. “I need it.”

She flinched, appalled. It must be some dark side thing.

“Let me fly,” she said.

“You can’t…fly this.”

“I can fly it better than you can right now.”

He didn’t answer. There was no moving him out of the pilot’s seat. He was too big, for one thing, and wrestling with him now didn’t seem like a good idea.

She watched him. His capacity to fight while wounded was daunting, but this was bad. This was worse than when Chewie gut-shot him. She remembered the bright blood on the snow, then Kylo chasing her through Starkiller’s snowy forest. The way those huge, vicious swings of his lightsaber had jarred her wrists and arms and shoulders. She didn’t think he was capable of anything like that now. The Force alone had to be keeping him going.

“Where are we going?” she asked. Keep him talking. She had to keep him talking.

“Jannessi. A planet…strong with the Force.”

“What were you going to do there?” No, not _were_. Bad choice of words. “Will you be meeting anyone there?”

He shook his head. “No one. I was there a long time ago. After Luke. In the Unknown Regions.”

“Do the Knights of Ren know about it? Will they be able to track us through hyperspace?”

“No. We’ll be safe.” He slumped, caught himself, straightened again. “For now.”

Her chest tightened. She’d been determined to steal a ship to escape him. She’d been prepared to strand herself on some deserted moon to get away from him. And now…

Why did the thought of him dying fill her with unreasoning terror?

She knelt beside him, put one hand on his arm, the other on his knee. “Ben, you’ll have to let me fly. We still have to land.”

“I can land.” He looked down at her hand, then at her. “Just…stay here.”

She tucked her feet under her and leaned against his leg. “I’ll be right here.” Swallowing once, she added, “I’m not going anywhere.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The thing that really got me in the movie is that Kylo didn't know what he did wrong, he couldn't understand why Rey refused his offer in the throne room. He still doesn't know.


	11. Desperation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Rey is left to her own devices on a strange planet in the Unknown Regions.

The First Order shuttle was a gorgeous piece of machinery, but Poe dumped it at the first shady shipyard he came to, trading it for a heavily-armed sloop of uncertain provenance. He _didn’t_ have any scruples about stripping the shuttle of everything useful—blasters, tools, equipment, provisions, data stores. They agreed to name the new ship the _Bright Princess_.

The blue streaks of hyperspace now filled the cockpit viewport. They were on their way to Hapan, home of one of Leia’s strongest connections—she’d almost married the Hapan Consortium’s chume’da, the heir. You couldn’t get a much better connection than that. Add in the Hapan fleet and the contact there was number one on the list.

Poe rubbed his forehead. He felt like someone had reached in and ripped out his heart. He was only going through the motions, researching every world Kaydel had contacted when they were on Crait, looking for the ones most likely to help the crippled Resistance.

 _Crippled_ , hell. Who was he kidding? There was no Resistance without Leia. She’d slap him again if she heard him say it, but it was true. She was the one with all the connections, all the knowledge of who was who, what they could do. He and the two dozen people on this ship were only escapees hoping to find someplace to go to ground long enough to survive.

Ematt’s voice jerked him out of his thoughts. “What d’you think happened back there? On that First Order ship. With the Jedi girl.”

Poe’s lips twisted. “You mean the _scavenger?_ The one who was supposed to bring back Luke Skywalker and went over to Kylo Ren instead?

Ematt scratched his white beard thoughtfully. “For someone who went over to the other side, she went to an awful lot of trouble to get us out of there.”

In his quiet way, Ematt was challenging him, telling him, _Think, Poe_. The man had been around during the fight against the Empire. By all rights he was the one who should be leading this parade, not Poe. But that wasn’t Major Caluan Ematt’s style.

Ematt had been the one to show the girl the _Finalizer’s_ flight control center after she’d had all the rebels loaded into the shuttle. Poe had to admit her shock and dismay were convincing when she realized they couldn’t just fly off.

“Ren captured her and took her to Starkiller,” he said slowly. “I don’t know, maybe he did something to her while he had her. He can—”

He stopped, swallowed hard at the memory. Ren tearing into his head. Ren grubbing through his thoughts and memories like he had every right. The _pain_ , beyond what the interrogators had already done to him.

“He can _do_ things to your head. Maybe he planted something in her, then planted her with us. To find Skywalker. Find out what our plans were.”

Ematt made a considering noise. “Possible.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Poe said. “What matters is that she’s the reason Leia’s gone.”

Ematt gave him a sharp look.

“You didn’t see Leia’s face when she saw that girl with Ren.” When Ren called her _mother_. What a sickening shock _that_ had been. That General Leia Organa could’ve birthed that monster. “She might as well have stuck the knife in Leia right then.”

And the surrender… It had all been for nothing. _Nothing_. Ren’s people were supposed to save Leia. They let her die.

“She was a strong woman,” Ematt said. “The strongest I’ve known. She’d been through too much, maybe, and everyone has their limits.” He was quiet a while. “It’s up to us to make sure she didn’t die needlessly.”

Poe ran his fingers over the sloop’s controls. “No one would join us when she was alive. Now that she’s gone…” His throat closed. He spent a minute wrestling himself back under control. “We’ll make sure everyone knows how it happened. And who’s responsible.”

Kylo Ren—and the scavenger girl who destroyed Leia’s last hope.

* * *

Kylo did get the ship on the ground, but not with his usual finesse. Rey pried her fingers loose from the frame of the pilot’s chair and his shin and pushed to her feet. His eyes were closed now, his head leaned back. The sheen of sweat on his face, the tightness of his muscles showed how much pain he was in.

 “I’ll get help. Hold on.” She put her hand on his arm. “Do you hear me, Ben? _Hold on_.”

“Wait,” he rasped. He fumbled at his side, unclipped his lightsaber from his belt. “You need…a weapon.”

After an instant’s hesitation, she took it, fastened it to her own belt. Giving his arm a reassuring squeeze, she climbed up and slipped out of the hatch.

* * *

Kylo leaned back in the pilot’s seat and struggled to stay conscious. The raging pain of his wound came and went—not a good sign. It meant he was succumbing to blood loss.

He’d given her his _lightsaber_. Did a part of him know something he wouldn’t admit even to himself?

No. No. It only made sense. He was in no condition to use it, and he couldn’t let her go unarmed.

Outside the cockpit, Rey came into view, small against the grassy rise he’d landed on. She paused, looked around her. He opened his mind to her and felt caution and driving purpose. And beneath, a tugging current of desperation and fear. He tried to clear his thoughts, force his mind to work, to understand what would make her desperate and afraid.

His thoughts slid away and the world faded.

* * *

A vast, rolling grassland swept away from the place where Kylo had landed the fighter. Blue, puffy clouds sailed the wind that gusted out of a sky so enormous it dwarfed the wall that loomed a short distance ahead.

Rey eyed that wall with some worry, a towering earthen structure topped with spikes. Two huge, metal gates stood open and beyond, the movement and noise of a town.

A big, orange sun was descending toward a line of bluffs on the horizon. Transports, people, droids and animals hurried through knee-high grass or over a dirt road, converging on the gates in skirls of orange-tinted dust. Voices called out. A herd of beasts bawled and jostled as a transport laden with crates pushed its way through them. Smells of grass and dung and dust came and went on the wind that whipped at Rey’s shorn hair.

She took a steadying breath, raised her chin and joined the ingoing crowd. The urge to _hurry! hurry!_ clutched at her. She had to fight it with every step. She couldn’t afford a wrong move. _Ben_ couldn’t afford it. His lightsaber weighed on her, unaccountably heavy.

The people around her were a mix of humans and what must’ve been Jannessi natives. Most were a little taller than the humans, with six limbs—four arms and two legs. Long ropes of pale hair contrasted with deep brown skin.

Cautiously, Rey reached out. Weariness, eagerness, boredom, impatience bombarded her—everything you’d expect from people at the end of a day’s work. And something else…

She turned. A group of towering beasts plodded along the road. They were strange-looking things, taller and more massive in front than in the back. A human man and a grown boy with hair as shaggy as the beasts’ pelts walked with them, herders, maybe. As she watched, the man laid a gentle hand on the shoulder of one of the animals. A smaller creature, a young one, danced up to the boy and butted him. He laughed and rubbed the knob on top of its head. The youngster tossed its head and pranced back to the herd.

The kindness was what decided her. Rey made her way toward them.

She fell into step a respectable distance from the man. Up close, he was tall, with a high-bridged nose and high forehead. He looked over at her, the pleasant look on his face changing as he took in her slashed and torn and dirty clothes.

“Please,” she said. “Someone is hurt. I need to find a medic, a healer. Someone who can help him.” The words tumbled out.

The man stopped the beast he walked beside by tapping its broad chest. The other animals lumbered to a halt, too. The boy, curious and concerned, joined them.

“Where is he?” the man asked.

Rey pointed to the fighter, red-gilded by the setting sun. “In our ship.”

The man’s eyes widened with alarm. “The sun will be down soon. He can’t stay there. It isn’t safe.”

“He can’t— I can’t—” she stammered, caught off guard by the fear choking her. “He’s hurt too badly. I can’t move him. I have to get a medic.”

“No time.” The man glanced at the sun. “Tam,” he said to the boy. “Come. Bring along the animals.”

The boy nodded hard enough to make his shaggy hair fly, moved to one of the shuffling beasts and tapped its foreleg—no, _one_ of its forelegs. It had two pairs, the foremost ending in strong, thick claws. That’s why the beasts looked so front-heavy. The creature turned to follow them.

She led the man back to the fighter at almost a run, the boy calling and urging the herd of animals into a lumbering trot behind them.

Rey hurried up the boarding ladder, the man right behind her.

The thick, iron smell of blood in the cabin was almost overwhelming. The man jumped down behind her, then the boy.

She darted to Kylo. He slumped bonelessly in the pilot’s seat, his arms hanging limp, his head lolling at an uncomfortable angle. _Oh, no. Oh, no_.

“Ben?” Her voice came out high and strained. Her hand shot out, touched his shoulder.

He was there. Still alive. She breathed again.

The man stood at her shoulder, close enough she could smell the odor of his beasts on him. “What happened?”

“We were ambushed,” she said. “He was shot. It’s bad—”

“I can see,” the man broke in. “Step back. Me and Tam here will get him.”

Her hand still rested on Kylo’s shoulder. The blood there was only tacky now, not hot and slick. “It’s all right,” she told him. “These men are here to help.”

“He’s not in a shape to worry, missy,” the man said gently.

“No,” she said, beginning to argue. _They won’t understand_ , she told herself.

She reached into Kylo’s mind—

And met only feral darkness. A storm of pain, and rage, and power. No personality, only _awareness_. It was as if the dark side of the Force was the only thing left in him, the only thing keeping him alive.

At her touch, it rose and _looked_ at her. An iron grip closed around her. Fear burst through her, but she pushed it down.

 _I brought help_ , she told that power. _We’re going to get you out of here, get you someplace safe. It’s all right._

The darkness breathed, holding her tight. If it felt threatened, it could easily crush the man and boy with her—after crushing her, first. It took every ounce of strength to face it, strength she’d gained facing every other terror in her life. Taking a long, slow breath, she opened herself to it, relaxed into its grip. _I’m not afraid. You don’t have to be, either_.

She was only barely aware of the two lifting Kylo from the pilot’s seat, maneuvering him out of the ship and onto an animal’s back. If they caused him pain, the darkness didn’t show it. Its focus on her was all-consuming, like she was the center the galaxy revolved around.

While the darkness held her mind, her eyes watched the care the boy showed the wounded, unconscious man. Shadows stretched long across the ground, and she saw the nervous glances the man gave them. No one else was left on the road. They hurried through the gates and into the mazelike streets and jumble of buildings that was the town. The gates groaned closed behind them, shut with a boom.

There was a discussion about what to do with them.

“No, not the house,” Rey heard herself say. She didn’t know how long she could hold the darkness. “Do you have a—a barn? A shelter?

More argument. “They’ll be safe with the animals,” the man said.

They passed into a high, dim, musty-smelling space. The animals jostled and whuffed and gave creaking calls. The man led the beast carrying Kylo to a corner while the boy piled thick-furred fleeces for a bed. Carefully, the two slid him onto it, Rey holding his slack hand the whole time.

She blinked away from the darkness inside him but didn’t let go of his hand. “The medic. Where can I find him?”

The man looked alarmed. “ _Now?_ She won’t come. Not till morning.”

Rey took a chance and let Kylo’s hand go. She didn’t dare let him sense her agitation. “He might not _have_ till morning.”

“It’s twilight,” the man said. “Too late. It’s not safe.”

“I don’t care,” Rey said. On a list of _not safe_ places, Jakku had to rank near the top—day _or_ night. “Tell me where. _I’ll_ go get the medic.”

“I can show her, Da,” the boy said.

The man looked from Rey to Kylo. “Show her,” he said. “Then come right back.”

“I will, Da.” The boy beckoned to her. “Come on. Hurry.”

He dashed off. Rey followed.

_* * *_

The light dimmed, moving away. From out of the darkness, Kylo reached for it, followed as it bobbed and darted. _Driven purpose. Desperation_. _Fear_. If there was fear, there was danger. If there was danger, he’d destroy it.

Yet there had been fear when she held him with her intent: _Safe. No fear_. And she left herself open, unprotected. Only that quieted him.

Beyond the darkness was pain and movement, strange voices and hands. He clung to the light, a beacon in the howling night. The voices, the touch of hands went away. He was left alone again.

Alone— No. Not alone. Something approached, dark in the darkness. It crept closer, scenting, testing. He turned to it, snapped out defensive power. The dark thing only came on and curled around him, murmuring, soothing.


	12. Deadly Dark

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Rey forces a healer to treat Kylo at the point of his lightsaber, and Finn and Maz discover things haven't gone the way they expected.

The healer’s name was Verrannallu. Like everyone else on this stupid planet, she was afraid of the dark. And it wasn’t even fully dark yet, only deep twilight. The medic—healer—whatever she was—only opened the door because Rey wouldn’t stop pounding and shouting.

Rey wasted a few more precious minutes trying to convince the Jannessi woman to come. At last, she had to resort to Kylo’s lightsaber to put an end to an argument that was going nowhere. Snapping it off her belt, she ignited it.

“Where did you get that—that _thing_?” the healer gasped, her eyes going wide.

_Three_ eyes. What Rey had taken for an ornament or marking on her forehead opened, gleaming in the lightsaber’s lurid red light. One arm thrust out in a warding gesture, the other three clutched her chest and throat.

 “All that matters is that no one will bother us while I have it,” Rey said. “Will you come now?”

Verrannallu studied her with all three eyes, pale jade green in a round, brown face. “Wait here. I’ll get my kit.”

Rey deactivated the lightsaber with relief. It felt strange in her hands, heavy and hungry, like it wanted to crawl out of its hilt and up her arms. Jittering by the open door, she wondered how long she should wait before she went hunting for the healer. The woman returned before Rey’s restraint failed.

The silent, empty streets made Rey uneasy. In every building they passed, shutters were closed, blinds drawn. Their footsteps echoed strangely. She felt eyes on her back. She turned, igniting Kylo’s lightsaber again.

“Ah, you feel it, do you?” Verrannallu said. “The Nightfolk walk after dark. It’s their thoughts you feel. To meet the Nightfolk means madness.” She slid Rey a look. “Now you see why I didn’t wish to come so close to night.”

“Where are they?” Rey scanned the narrow, winding streets, suddenly more ominous than ever.

The healer waved one hand. “Out there. The walls keep them out. Usually. But we don’t tempt them in their time of strength.”

She picked up her pace. Rey let her get a little ahead, so she had more room in case she had to use that lightsaber.

“You are Bright,” Verrannallu said. “Why do you carry a red blade?”

“Bright?” Rey’s gaze flicked—to the street ahead, behind, to the rooftops, that corner to the left.

“You aren’t of the Nightkind. Yet you carry a Night weapon.”

“Mine was destroyed,” Rey said, half-absently.

The skin on the back of her neck crawled. She was beginning to see why these people stayed inside at night. Alarm bubbled up. Had she made a wrong turn? She stopped, suddenly gripped by the certainty that she had to turn and go the other way.

Verrannallu caught her arm. “Come. Come. It’s the call of the Nightfolk you hear.”

“No, I—” Rey reached out for Kylo. He rose up in her mind, a knot of stormy darkness ahead. The urge to turn vanished. She sensed something… Disquiet? Disturbance? “We have to hurry.”

She hadn’t been paying attention when they’d brought Kylo here, gripped as she’d been by his darkness. Now, instinct led her, as if she only had to follow their bond past houses to the high-roofed barn, its tall doors closed to the night.

She pulled back the latch and swung the door open on the smell of the animals, the pool of light in a far corner where the bales of fleeces were stacked. Verrannallu closed the door behind her and followed Rey toward the light. The beasts creaked and clicked and whuffed as they passed, resting in their pens on their six folded legs.

She couldn’t see Kylo behind the bales of fleeces, but the herder and his son looked around as they entered. Something was wrong. She could see it in their faces. Her heart crowded into her throat as she hurried to them.

“Me and Da only left for a minute,” said the boy, Tam. “Just a minute, to get soap and water to clean the blood…”

Confused, Rey looked down at Kylo. She knew he was alive—

Something—some _creature_ —clung to his wounded shoulder. Six spidery hands on long limbs gripped his tunic. Three purple eyes—two large and wide-spaced on the head, the third smaller and a little higher in the center—stared at her. A wide, lipless mouth opened in a rippling snarl, showing double rows of curved, conical teeth.

Rey gave a strangled cry and raised the lightsaber. She didn’t know what she’d do, but she had to do _something_.

A hand wrapped long fingers around her wrist.

Verrannallu pulled down her arm without visible effort. “You brought me here for _this?_ ” she hissed, her eyes slitted in anger. “He is Nightkind!”

“I’m sorry, Verrannallu.” The herder held out his hands. “I don’t know how it came. I thought they’d be safe with the animals—”

“Unless a Night-one is here to draw it!” the healer said, outraged.

“What _is_ that thing?” Rey wrenched against the woman’s grip. She had two thumbs, on one on each side of her hand. Her hold was impossible to break. “Get it off him!”

“Stop, girl!” the healer said. “It is a hassash—a Night beast.”

The herdsman stepped in front of her, making calming gestures. “Listen to her, missy. I lost a mallik to the bite of one.”

Verrannallu abruptly let Rey go. “Better it should bite him and be done with it.”

Rey spun, horrified. “No!” She realized Kylo’s lightsaber still hummed and crackled angrily in her hand. She quickly extinguished it. “Please. Please, help him. He can’t die.”

Verrannallu’s gaze on her was still narrow and angry. “Why should you care what happens to one of the Nightkind—” Her three eyes widened. “What is this?”

Rey only gazed at her, one hand extended pleadingly, aware of the silently watching man and boy.

The healer’s long-fingered hand made a circle in front of Rey, then swept toward Kylo. “Bright and dark, wound together…” Her eyes snapped back to Rey. “What are you?”

_Bright and dark, wound together_ … Rey caught her breath. That’s what she and Kylo were. She could feel it. The healer must somehow _see_ their bond.

“We don’t know,” Rey said. “How it happened. Why it happened.”

Verrannallu made a noise, half-thoughtful, half-disapproving, then seemed to reach some decision. “Jaegar, Tam. This hurt Night-one is very dangerous. Go from here.”

The man—Jaegar?—looked worriedly from her to Kylo. “Me and Tam, we moved him from his ship on the knoll. He did nothing.”

The healer turned to Rey. “You held him?”

“I— Yes. I told him he was safe. That no one would hurt him.” Rey turned to the two men. “You helped us. I wouldn’t let anything happen to you.”

The boy looked more relieved than his father did.

“You do it again, then,” Verrannallu said. “If you want me to tend to him, make the hassash leave him.”

Rey eyed the creature still clinging to Kylo, two of its arms hooked around his neck. “How?”

“If he listens to you, so it will.”

Rey went and knelt by Kylo. The hassash hissed, rocking a little as if preparing to strike. The hand she raised curled into her middle. There was no way she could touch that—that _thing_. The darkness in Kylo— Well, that was Kylo. She was used to it.

_Yeah?_ a little voice inside said. _Since when?_

_Shut up_ , she told it and reached for him.

The looming, watchful darkness inside him was somehow growing less threatening to face. Or maybe it was _making_ itself less threatening. She shook her head and stared hard at the hassash.

_Make it go away_ , she told him. _The healer wants to help you, but it won’t let us come near_.

The creature blinked and made a surprised, questioning burble. Her lip caught in her teeth, Rey watched it. If this didn’t work, she didn’t know _how_ she’d get it off him.

Its long, thin fingers relaxed their grip on his tunic and neck. Then, before she knew what it was doing, it reached across, caught her wrist and clambered onto her lap. Rey made a horrified noise and shrank away, but it only climbed up her arm.

The three purple eyes peered into her face. Two of its six-fingered hands rose and touched her hair, gently smoothing the short, singed strands in back. The other four clung to the waist and shoulders of her tunic. It was all Rey could do to keep from screaming and trying to peel the thing off.

“It—it’s touching me!” she squeezed out.

Verrannallu had already gone to Kylo’s side, gesturing Jaegar forward to help her with him.

She glanced at Rey with brief unconcern. “Be calm. It won’t harm you.”

Rey’s breaths came so fast she thought she’d pass out. “How do you know?”

“If your Night-one won’t harm you,” Verrannallu said absently, “his creature won’t.”

The hassash slid one hand around the back of her neck. Another touched her cheek, the clawed fingers curled to avoid grazing her skin. Rey squeezed her eyes closed as it bent its face down and inhaled as if scenting her.

“It’s n-n-not h-his—” she stuttered.

“Oh, I think it is,” the healer said. “Look. Tell me if he’s calm.”

Rey just sat stiff in the hassash’s embrace, her teeth clenched.

“Girl!” Verrannallu said sharply.

“Yes!” Rey felt Kylo through their bond. “He’s—he’s fine. Calm. Yes. Quiet.”

“Mmmm,” Verrannallu said as if she’d expected no other answer. “Soap, water, cloths?” she said to the boy, Tam.

He hurried forward with the items, keeping a cautious distance from Rey and the hassash. “Yes, good,” the healer said, then studying Kylo’s shoulder, made another considering sound. “The hassash has been at work here.”

Rey whipped her head around, forgetting the creature clinging to her. “Did it—?”

Verrannallu sat back, resting one elbow on her knee. “And someone else has been here before. It was you who stopped the bleeding?”

“Yes, but he said this creature would—”

“The hassash’s bite kills. Its kiss heals. Night and Bright. Neither wants this Night-one to die. Now, touch him. What I do will hurt. I don’t want him rousing against us.”

Rey edged around, took Kylo’s big hand and pulled off his glove. His skin felt cooler than it should, his hand limp and unresponsive in hers. The hassash purred soothingly in her ear, its sinewy little fingers kneaded her shoulders. Touching Kylo, her revulsion to the thing ebbed a little. She was able once more to find the calm he’d need.

With Jaegar and Tam’s help, the healer got Kylo’s blood-soaked clothing off. After the blood was cleaned off, his wounds stood out starkly on much-too-pale skin. Rey had seen plenty of wounds. You got used to it after a while. So why did these make something in her middle clench?

“It’s all right,” she told him—and herself. “It’s gonna hurt, but that rib is punching a hole in you. Just hold on, Ben. I’m here. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

She wanted to go into him the way she had on the ship and try to take the pain away. The hassash gave a soft growl and tugged at her hair, as if reminding her that he needed the pain. She shuddered and turned her attention to the healer again.

“Now she has to drain the blood from your lung,” Rey said. “That’ll make it easier to breathe.” She took his hand in both of hers and squeezed. “Ready? Hold on…”

Wincing, she watched the procedure with a fascination born of years of fixing things. But the kinds of things she fixed didn’t hurt and bleed. Thankfully.

At last, he was stitched, salved, bandaged and laid down on his uninjured side on the pile of fleeces, a blanket pulled over him. Closing her eyes, Rey found herself shaky, sweating and vaguely ill. She sat back but didn’t release his hand.

Verrannallu’s voice broke in on her. Rey opened her eyes to find the tall Jannessi woman standing, drying her hands on a clean piece of toweling.

“He has lost much blood,” she said. “Time only will heal that. Make sure he stays warm. I will be back in the morning.”

Finally, the hassash climbed off Rey. _Finally_. It settled itself on Kylo’s bed, near his head.

Rey frantically brushed off her clothes where it had clung and scrambled to her feet. “Thank you. Tell me how I can repay you—”

“Time enough for that.” Verrannallu turned to the herder and his son, who were by now looking very pale and grim. “When he wakes, water, broth, tea, as much as he will drink.”

Tam glanced nervously at the hassash, swallowed hard and nodded. His father set a comforting hand on his shoulder.

“Verrannallu,” he said, “you are welcome in our home this night.”

The three left.

Rey listened as the sound of their voices faded. She vaguely remembered the house not far from the barn, when they’d discussed where to carry Kylo. The animals in the barn made sleepy clicks. The hassash rocked on its six limbs, kneading the fleece as if to make itself a comfortable bed. She eyed it. It eyed her back, making a sort of chuckling noise.

She hesitated, then touched Kylo’s shoulder. His skin was warm now. Warm was good. That much she knew. She also knew people with a wound as bad as his sometimes never woke up.

The hassash curled its long limbs it until it looked like an unidentifiable lump. Only the eyes, glowing an eerie yellowish-green in the light of the lamp, gave it away.

She shivered again. The thing was watching her, making a soft, somewhat sinister crooning noise. Not as bad as having it touch her, but it wasn’t long before she got up and moved to the other side of the bales of fleeces that enclosed them. She sat down and settled against them to watch, the musky, spicy smell of them wrapping her, so different from the smells of dust and machinery she was used to.

Holding Kylo’s lightsaber, she scrubbed at her eyes, swallowing down tears.

* * *

When Finn had followed Chewie on board the _Millennium Falcon_ on Crait _,_ the first thing he’d noticed was Rey’s staff, propped in a corner. Rey wouldn’t go anywhere without that staff, but there it was. Her satchel lay slouched against a bulkhead. Like she’d just stepped out with every intention of returning soon.

Next, he’d looked around the cabin, empty except for Chewie and him. “You didn’t find Skywalker?”

He couldn’t understand Chewie’s answer, but it didn’t seem like a definite “no.”

More and more uneasy, Finn had told him, “Kylo Ren has Rey again. We saw her on a holo with him.”

Chewie seized his arm in a huge, furry hand, dragged him to the escape pods, pointed and made a flying gesture while speaking in his own language.

Finn tried not to grind his teeth in frustration. “Um… You came under attack?” he guessed. “The _Falcon_ had some kind of malfunction?” His imagination failed him after that.

He couldn’t blame Chewie. Finn had been able to tell he was frustrated, too, making those roars and grunts and throwing up his hands as if asking questions of his own.

Those at least Finn could guess. While BB-8 added his beeps and whistles, he told Chewie his own tale. Leia’s collapse. Seeing Rey on that holo with Kylo Ren. The surrender.

Chewie rocked back and went silent. Finn had a suspicion that whatever happened, things hadn’t gone the way Chewie planned.

So now they were flying through hyperspace, going who knew where. He’d like to imagine it was to go meet Rey somewhere. He had a feeling Chewie was almost as daring as Han, but making a rendezvous with the First Order fleet wasn’t something he could picture the Wookie doing.

Chewie pulled back on the controls and the Falcon dropped out of hyperspace. A familiar blue-and green-mottled planet expanded in the cockpit’s viewport.

Finn sat up straight in the co-pilot’s seat. “Takodana? What—?”

_Where’s my boyfriend?_ he remembered Maz saying when they first walked into her place.

Finn pointed through the viewport. “Maz! Maz can talk to you, can’t she?”

Chewie tipped back his head and made a sharp grunting noise.

The approach over the lake showed a blank where Maz’s castle had risen against the mountains. Still, there were a lot of ships on the landing field, mostly freighters and a couple of fast cruisers like the last time he’d been here.

The boarding ramp let him and Chewie and BB-8 out into another sunny, beautiful day. You’d never know the First Order had razed everything flat not so long ago.

They stepped past the trees. Chewie’s bulk blocked the view. He moved, and Finn saw.

A blasted waste stretched ahead. Everything had been fire and craters and scattered bodies and tumbled stone blocks the last time Finn had been here.

Now, the blocks had been cleared away and stacked to the sides, the ground re-leveled, the basements of Maz’s castle a gaping maw open to the sky. Workers and droids buzzed around the site, clearing and cleaning. Surveyors strung lines and set markers. The voices of workers calling back and forth, the rattle of jackhammers, the whine of hydraulics filled the air. Apparently, Maz had managed to settle her union dispute.

Finn felt a little of the tension leave him. It was a relief to see some sort of normalcy in the galaxy when he’d seen so much death and disaster and destruction.

Chewie waded into the activity, his head swinging back and forth as he scanned the area. He suddenly adjusted course and headed for a massive stack of cargo containers that seemed to be the hub of activity.

Maz’s voice rang out over the noise. “Chewbacca!”

Finn couldn’t see her, but Chewie obviously did. He turned and hurried in the direction her voice had come from. Finn jogged after, BB-8 beeping excitedly behind him. Finally, he saw Maz hurrying toward them, her pendants and bracelets and strings of beads swinging incongruously against worker’s coveralls.

As Chewie reached her, she stopped and held out her arms. Chewie knelt and folded her into his massive ones.

Her thin arms wrapped around Chewie’s shaggy neck. “Word reached us here a few days ago. I’m so sorry about Han.”

Chewie moaned.

Maz thrust back. “ _Who_ did it _?_ How—?” Her eyes landed on Finn and widened behind her lenses. “Finn!” She stepped out of Chewie’s embrace, her eyes narrowing. “Come on, you three. Let’s find someplace quieter. You need to tell me what’s going on.”

She led them into the stack of cargo containers. They stepped through a massive sliding door into what looked like temporary quarters for her establishment. It lacked the color and well-worn comfort of the castle, and the clientele wasn’t as numerous or varied. Most seemed to be workers in coveralls or aprons, though some looked like they might’ve been the ones shooting at her during the union dispute.

They followed Maz as she threaded through to a door at the back. She gestured them into a small, neat office with a window that looked out on the building site’s activity. Above a wide plotting table, a holo of building plans shimmered blue and silver in the air.

She perched on a stool and motioned them to sit on the other side of the table. BB-8 rolled to a stop at Finn’s knee.

“Now,” Maz said. “Tell me what happened.”

Chewie took over, gesturing broadly and making his Wookie noises. Maz listened intently. From her questions, Finn could tell Chewie was describing the events on Starkiller Base. After a few minutes, she folded her lenses on top of her head, rested her chin in her hand and just listened silently.

Finn held in his impatience. Chewie finally fell still, leaving Maz looking disturbed.

“Here’s the thing,” Finn said. “Chewie and Rey were supposed to go find Luke Skywalker and bring him back to the Resistance. I don’t know—I was out of it when they left. The next thing I know, Kylo Ren has Rey again, Skywalker is nowhere in sight, and I can’t understand Chewie so he can tell me what happened,” he finished in a rush.

Maz sat back and toyed with one of her pendants. “He said they did find Skywalker. He refused to return. He refused even to teach Rey.”

“ _What?_ ” Finn said. “Why? How could he?”

Chewie answered.

“He says Luke was like a man with a poisoned wound, not the same man he and Han had known,” Maz said. “Rey stayed on the planet, hoping to convince him. He wouldn’t change his mind.”

“What did you do?” Finn asked Chewie.

He spoke, and Maz translated, “Waited. But something happened the night he and Rey left. He didn’t know what. He said he’d gone to his bunk on the _Falcon_ when Rey came running in with all her gear. She was upset,” Maz said. “He hadn’t seen her so upset since—” She glanced at Chewie. “Well. She told him they had to find the First Order fleet.”

“ _The First_ —” Finn stopped. “Go on.”

“She told him she had to find Kylo Ren,” Maz said. “If Luke wouldn’t do anything, he was the only chance they had.”

Finn got up, ran a hand down his face. “Why would she think Kylo Ren would lift a finger to help the Resistance? The First Order has been trying to wipe out every last one of them!”

“That’s what Chewbacca pointed out to her.”

Chewie spoke again, longer this time.

Maz looked more disturbed than ever. “He says Rey told him—” She stopped, looked at Chewie. “Are you sure?”

Chewie roared and nodded.

Maz let out a breath. “Somehow, the Force had connected her and Kylo Ren. She spoke with him. She—” Maz broke off. “Chewbacca, do you think—? You said Rey was upset. Do you think something else happened, something she might’ve misunderstood?”

Groaning, Chewie gestured emphatically.

Maz didn’t speak for a moment. When she did, her voice was hushed. “Rey said she touched him, through the Force. Kylo Ren.” Her eyes were huge. “I’ve been around a long, long time, and I never heard of anything like that. I wouldn’t think it was possible.”

Finn’s mouth dropped open. It took a minute to find his voice. “And so…what? He hypnotized her somehow? Made her believe he’d help? Is that how he got to her again?” He turned to Chewie. “Even if he did, why would you let her go?”

Chewie wagged his head and roared, flailing his arms.

“Here’s what he says,” Maz said. “‘I told her everything you just said. I told her, “First we have to find the fleet. How do you expect me to do that?” She said, “You’re a smuggler. You must have a way to keep track of people like that. Or we catch up with the Resistance. One way or another they’ll know where the First Order is.” I argued with her. I told her it was pointless, it was dangerous, she was crazy. She saw what Kylo Ren did to Han—to you, too, Finn. How could she even think of going to him, no matter how desperate they were?’”

 “You showed me the escape pods when I came on board,” Finn said to Chewie. “Did she set course while you were asleep and sneak out in one?”

Chewie hung his head a moment, then spoke again.

Maz sat back in surprise. For a moment, she didn’t say anything. “‘No,’ he says.” Her voice was quiet. “‘I helped her.’”

Finn liked Chewie. But at that moment, he felt like punching him. It must’ve shown in his face, because Chewie leaned forward as he spoke, gesturing forcefully.

“‘You have to understand,’” Maz translated. “‘I held Ben Solo when he was a baby, so tiny in my arms. I played with him when he was a boy, throwing him up in the air while he squealed with happiness before I caught him again. I taught him my language, so we could speak the way Han and I did.’”

Maz took a breath as if to steady herself, then went on. “‘When he killed Han, it was like he drove that lightsaber through me. I had him in the sights of my bowcaster. I could’ve shot him in the head then and killed him. I took aim. Through my sights, I saw the face of that boy I’d loved like my own blood kin. And I couldn’t do it.’”

Finn swallowed on a suddenly thick throat. “But Rey—”

Chewie spoke again, and Maz continued translating.

“‘Rey told me when she touched him, she had a vision. In the vision, he was Ben Solo again. He’d thrown off Kylo Ren’s mask and returned to his true self. But she knew he’d need help to do it, because the dark side was too strong.’”

Chewie bent, elbows on knees, and went on.

“‘Han grieved for his son. For years, I could see the pain in him. Rey had no reason to love Kylo Ren. She had no reason to hope, the way Han did. If she saw anything in him worth saving, Han would’ve wanted her to try. Han would’ve put her in that escape pod and sent her to that First Order ship. So that’s what I did.’”

Finn dropped into his chair.

Maz leaned an elbow on the plotting table in front of her. “When she left, Rey told Chewbacca to tell you not to worry. Give her some time and trust her.”

“Don’t worry!” Finn burst out.

“What you saw on the holo,” Maz said. “Did it look like she was able to do what she intended?”

Finn blew out a breath. “I don’t know, Maz. It looked bad to me. To all of us there. Ren offered terms of surrender. Then he pulled Rey in front of him. She stammered something to Leia—I couldn’t tell you what. I was too shocked. I couldn’t even tell you how she looked. Only that she was there, with him.”

Maz’s eyes narrowed on nothing in particular. “Surrender. And the First Order had been attacking the Resistance?”

“They had a whole formation of AT-M6s deployed. They’d just finished punching a hole in the base’s shield door with a battering ram cannon. By then, it was either surrender or die. Before Ren came on the comm, I think we were all sure it was going to be…die.”

Maz made a thoughtful noise. “It doesn’t sound like she succeeded, then. So was she a hostage, or an ally?”

“I thought she was a hostage. Poe Dameron and the others at the base…not so much.” Finn straightened. “It would make sense. Whatever is going on with that Force communication, Kylo Ren must’ve lured her to him.”

Chewie growled.

“I agree,” Maz said. “That doesn’t explain Rey’s vision.”

Finn leaned forward. “It might’ve been a trick. Ren might’ve created it.” He turned to Chewie. “Right?”

Chewie moaned uncertainly.

“Right?” Finn asked Maz.

“I told you this is far outside my experience,” Maz said. “Do you think Rey would allow herself to be used as a hostage?”

“I think she would’ve agreed to whatever demands Ren made to save us,” Finn said without hesitation.

Maz and Chewie looked at each other. Chewie groaned and put his hands on his head.

Maz slid off her stool, came over and put a hand on his arm. “This is not your fault. Don’t say it is.”

“What isn’t?” Finn said, his heart sinking.

Maz looked as if she’d just been handed the last piece to a puzzle—but it didn’t fit. “From what you’ve told us…” She looked at Chewie, then back at Finn. “I think he demanded she join him.”


	13. Closer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Rey sleeps with Kylo Ren. (Don't get your hopes up-- he's half-dead from blood loss.)

Everything was red. Lightsabers. Blaster bolts. Blood. The hassash’s eyes—

“Rey.” A voice not only in her ears, but in her mind, too.

She shook her head, dispelling the half-dream. All but the hassash’s eyes. It crouched by her, tugging at her tunic.

She jerked away, then scrambled around the bales of fleeces. “Ben?”

He was _conscious_. He still lay on his side, blinking as if trying to focus. She stood, breathing hard and fighting sudden, inexplicable tears. They escaped anyway, trickling down her cheeks. Her legs wanted to give out on her. She fell to her knees beside him and took his hand. This time, his fingers curled around hers.

“Where?” he rasped.

“We’re in a barn.” It occurred to her to wonder how much he remembered. “On Jannessi. You brought us here in your ship. I found help, like I told you.”

She glanced uneasily at the hassash as it resumed its spot by Kylo’s head. Not the help she’d planned on, but any help was good, she guessed.

He closed his eyes, opened them again. “Afraid?”

Of course he could feel that. She could shrug, scoff, but there wasn’t much point. “You almost died.”

He made a noise she took to be agreement. “Dangerous. Didn’t want. To. Hurt you.”

“I know,” she said quietly. If he wanted to think she was afraid _of_ him, and not _for_ him, it was just as well. “Now stop talking. It’s hurting _you_.”

Tam had left a jug and cup. Rey let Kylo’s hand go, reaching across him for them. The lip of the jug rattled against the cup’s rim as she poured.

“The healer—her name is Verrannallu—said you have to drink. A lot. Because of the blood you lost.”

She sat back on her heels and studied him. This wasn’t going to be easy. She moved around him, coming closer to the hassash than she liked. Surprisingly, it scooted backward, giving her room.

He was wrapped with bandages around the chest and over one shoulder. How he was clothed under the blanket, she didn’t know, but his boots rested near the bales of fleeces, out of the way.

She slid her arm behind his shoulders then hesitated. “I might hurt you. You’ll have to tell me.”

Carefully, as gently as she could, given the weight of him, she raised his head. It was strange, touching him this way, the silky feel of his hair against the back of her hand, the solidity of the muscle under her arm. She wanted to think it was only because she wasn’t used to taking care of people, but her sheer _awareness_ of him told her it was something else.

She wet her lips, concentrating on tipping the cup so he could drink. He drained it and she eased him back down. His eyes followed her as she set the cup aside and sat back on her heels again.

His frown and blinking suggested he was struggling to stay conscious.

“It’s all right. Go to sleep. I’m keeping watch.” She put her hand down in the straw to push herself up

He caught her wrist. “Stay.”

She sank down again. “You’ll be fine, Ben. I’ll just be right over there.”

“Not me. You. Safe.” He pulled her in with astonishing strength.

“ _I’ll_ be fine, too,” she said, gently trying to free herself. “I lived my whole life on Jakku, remember?”

He reached up and folded her into his arms.

“Ben!” she protested.

“Sleep…” he said, then went limp, his arm a heavy weight around her.

The hassash, eyeing her from its spot behind him, gave a peculiar smug sound almost like a chuckle. She ignored it.

The terrifying stink of blood and burned flesh was gone. He smelled only of soap and salve and a rich, dark scent that might’ve been just Kylo. His chest rose and fell easily, no gasping or gurgling. She lay stiff, confused and awkward, then realized—strangely enough, she _did_ feel safe. And he was supposed to stay warm, right? This would keep him warm. So it was fine. Everything was fine.

Listening to his breathing, the creak and whuff of the sleepy animals around them, she slowly relaxed. With a satisfied purr, the hassash rocked, settling onto its folded limbs.

* * *

She dreamt of Jakku. There had been three of them, port rats, the kind of men who made their living shipping from freighter to freighter, with a little gambling and thievery on the side. They hadn’t made any noise, but _something_ had made her wake in the dark of her shelter. Only the sound of their breathing, the oniony stink of unwashed bodies told her they were there. Moving slowly, silently, she felt for her knife.

The menacing _fsshht_ of a lightsaber igniting broke the silence. Its bloody glow lit three coarse faces, outlined the black-cloaked figure that held the weapon. They only had time to gape in terror before the blade swung in a vicious arc. Severed bodies tumbled to the floor. Exactly like Snoke.

Lightsaber crackling, the figure straightened, then turned. Kylo Ren, in his mask.

“That won’t happen again,” he said, his voice distorted by the mask.

Rey woke with a start. Grey light sifted into the barn. Sometime in the night, she’d turned and now lay with her face nestled in the crook of Kylo’s shoulder. His other arm encircled her. She could tell from his breathing that he was already awake.

She sat up hastily, raking her hair back out of her face. There was a question in his eyes. She stood in one quick, sure movement, only belatedly remembering that she had to be careful not to hurt him.

She concentrated on her clothes, brushing off straw and dust and straightening them. “I’ll find us something to eat.”

“Rey—” There was an undercurrent of white fury in his voice. He broke off, as if he didn’t quite dare ask what had really happened that night.

She walked to the end of the bales, then stopped. He was silent behind her. “Two of them, I never saw again,” she said.

He didn’t speak for a moment, then, “The third?”

“I found him on the flats on the way to Niima Outpost.” She wet her lips. “He’d bled out.”

“Good,” he said.

* * *

Kylo followed her, a bouncing brightness in his mind. The creature that had rested beside him through the night was a knot of darkness. He didn’t know what it was, or what it had to do with him, but Rey was very, uncharacteristically afraid of it. He’d find out in time.

He could barely talk or move, but he found he could think. And it was clear something had changed between them.

Since he first saw her, he felt like he’d been trying to capture some rare wild thing—by force, by persuasion, by gentleness in turns. Almost, _almost_ he’d had her once or twice, then she startled away, trying to escape him again.

Yet now, when she had every opportunity, she approached him closer than ever.

She wasn’t afraid of him—not since Starkiller, anyway. Paradoxically, that fearlessness, that recklessness was her greatest weakness. When she was threatened, she attacked. What else could she do? In the life she’d led, she had no choice. But now—

He’d come close to lying when he said he didn’t want to hurt her. _He_ didn’t want to—but what he wanted and didn’t want meant little if he wasn’t aware enough to control the dark power that lived in him. And it hadn’t hurt her, either.

_It didn’t want to hurt her_.

Was that what had changed? Did the light in her sense that his darkness was no threat? It was amazing, incredible, as amazing and incredible as the fact of their bond. _This_ was something. It _meant_ something. Even more than the baffling magnetism that drew him to her.

* * *

Rey took a long breath, let it out, struggling to calm herself. She was barely aware of her surroundings. Not good in a strange place. _Dangerous_ in a strange place. She had to settle down, pay attention. But why should she be _un_ settled?

_Really, Rey?_ she mocked herself. _You just slept with_ Kylo Ren. _Why_ wouldn’t _you be unsettled?_

She didn’t understand—anything. Herself. Him. The bond, their situation…

It felt like it had on the _Finalizer_ , everything tearing away from her control. Except everything was torn from his control now, too. She guessed that made them even.

But the only thing to do in a dust storm was hunker down and wait for it to blow over. The state Kylo was in, hunkering down was really the only option, anyway. The thought made her feel a little better.

She found herself in a narrow street filled with bluish dawn light. She studied the houses around her, trying to decide if she recognized anything. The first time she’d come through, she’d been a little preoccupied. The second time, it was almost dark, and she was _still_ preoccupied. She took a few more uncertain steps.

She had to go out and get that ship cleaned up and under cover somewhere. Stupid ship. Flashing _KYLO REN IS HERE!_ to anyone who laid eyes on it. He’d promised that he’d made it so they couldn’t be tracked. _Not soon_ , he’d added.

_Let’s hope_ “not soon” _is long enough to get him on his feet again_.

“Where are you going, girl?” Verrannallu stood, all four arms folded, by the door of one of the houses. “Do you see the sun up? Are you so enamored of the Night?”

“Um…” She wasn’t sure what _enamored_ meant. But she could guess. Her face went hot. “He’s awake,” she hedged. “I thought he’d need to eat.”

“Food,” the healer said and pointed to the house behind her, “is here. There…” She pointed in the direction Rey had been going. “…you don’t go until the sun is up. Even if your Night-one and his creature won’t hurt you.”

Rey ducked her head. “Okay. Sorry.”

She let Verrannallu herd her into Jaegar’s house, where father and son were readying for their day.

There was food. There was a shirt, worn and too big but clean, to replace the one she wore, with its slash from her shoulder blades to the hem. Rey stammered. People never just _gave_ you things. Not without expecting something in return. And she didn’t have anything to give.

Verrannallu broke into her stammers and Jaegar and Tam’s confusion. “Come.” She put a hand on Rey’s shoulder and steered her out. “I need to see the patient.”

Father and son came, too, maybe to see to the animals, maybe to help. Help might be good. Rey was beginning to think of a few things she _definitely_ didn’t want to do for Kylo.

He was asleep again. The hassash was—thankfully—nowhere in sight. She reached out first through their bond, then made sure she was the one to wake him up.

His eyes opened with unnerving speed. They flicked over her—borrowed? donated?—shirt and narrowed. “ _What_ are you wearing?”

She bristled. “Something that matches my wardrobe back on Jakku.”

He had the grace to look embarrassed.

“Don’t worry. I’ll see if I can get you one, too.” She stood and stalked off, leaving him to Verrannallu.

She didn’t know why she was so irritated. She wasn’t even sure if she _was_ irritated. But it felt better than this confusing urge to watch over him, to get _closer_. He wasn’t going to die now, apparently. Verrannallu and the herders were taking care of him. If she was going to leave, now was the time to do it.

She couldn’t. Even the _thought_ of leaving made her sick to her stomach—almost as sick as the thought of him dying. Besides, even if she left, it was still there. The bond. There was no getting away from that.

She fiddled around in the barn, looking at the animals while keeping a light touch on Kylo’s state of mind. He was distracted, trying to keep track of _her_. It was almost funny.

After a while, Tam came out of the little shelter inside the stacked bales of fleeces. Catching sight of Rey where she stood petting the soft, spicy-smelling pelt of one of the animals, he ambled over.

“Verrannallu says he’s doing good. Just needs to get his strength back.”

“Thank you.”

He grinned. “Me and Da thought he’s your husband, but I guess not, huh?”

She stiffened. “ _What?_ No!”

“Oh.” He perked up, hopeful and interested. “Then—”

“We’re, um…” She stumbled to a stop. What? Fellow fugitives?

The boy’s face fell. “Betrothed?”

It was only a little better than _married_. But it might head off other problems. Even though he must be only two or three years younger than she was, he was still just a _boy_. Her traitorous mind conjured an image of Kylo's imposing figure beside him.

“Oh, sure.” Tam nodded. “That’s…” He looked unsure of what it was exactly. “Good,” he finally settled on.

“Tam!” Jaeger called, coming toward them. “Gather the mallikin. We’ll go to the north pastures today.”

Rey scrambled, desperate for escape. “I’d better check on him.” She fled.

Kylo was pushed up on one elbow, looking like he was preparing to push himself up further.

She hurried to him. He looked paler and more exhausted than he had a few minutes ago.

“What are you doing?” She reached to push him back down again, then caught herself.  “Lie down!”

“What happened?”

_Of course_ he felt her embarrassment and consternation.

“Did he do—?”

“No,” she broke in. “Nothing happened.”

“I felt—”

“Please.” She closed her eyes. “ _Please_ don’t ask.”

He opened his mouth to say something.

“Don’t tell me, ‘Say it.’ Because I _won’t_.”

There weren’t enough riches in the galaxy to make her tell him. There wasn’t a threat dire enough.

The sound of voices somewhere outside broke on her. On him, too. Tensing, he looked sharply in the direction of the barn door. Rey realized she, too, could feel the boil in the Force of anger and fear.

From the same direction, Verrannallu’s voice came, talking to Jaegar and Tam: “Go. I will deal with this.”

The sound of angry, shouting voices grew. Rey turned away from Kylo and moved toward them. She stepped past the bales of fleeces just as a crowd of Jannessi natives poured into the barn. One or two held blasters. Another carried a maul, and yet another what looked like a sharpened metal staff. Adrenaline poured through her.

She pulled Kylo’s lightsaber from her belt and ignited it. Feet planted wide, she raised it and faced them. This time, it felt light in her hands, sure, like some poisonous creature poised to strike.

Every single one fell silent. In the angry round, brown faces, third eyes flicked open, a growing constellation of jade and jasper, agate and serpentine.

Verrannallu turned from where she’d been arguing, two sets of arms waving and gesturing, with a Jannessi man.

“ _Now_ will you listen?” she said.

Quiet held for the space of three heartbeats, then a babble of voices began, people shifting, craning their necks, falling back in confusion.

“But she’s Bright!”

“…carries a red blade!”

“How can she—”

One voice rang clear, horrified and outraged. “You protect one of the Nightkind? Why?”

Rey stepped forward. The unstable blade hummed and spat in her hands, its vibration coiling up her arms.

“All you need to know is that I do,” she said, loud enough to carry over the other voices. “And I will.”

She was aware of Kylo behind her, his menace prickling at her back like the furnace-heat of Jakku’s sun. He was dangerous under ordinary circumstances. But vulnerable as he was now? He was even more dangerous. He’d tolerated strangers last night—because she’d held his hand and promised they were helping him. Apparently he trusted her enough to believe her.

This crowd of hostile Jannessi, he’d annihilate.

“Fools!” Verrannallu spat. “You think to harm this Night-one? She blinds you. Open your eyes and look at him!”

The voices died down, replaced by gasps and mutters. Rey shifted backwards, toward Kylo. Something told her he was the bigger worry at the moment.

“Come!” Verrannallu mocked, two arms folded over her chest, the other two fists propped on hips. “Do what you came here to do.”

“Verrannallu,” said the man she’d been arguing with. “They are _one_.”

“Ah, you see that, do you? I thought you’d gone blind as a human. And you—” She swept one arm to encompass the uncomfortably milling group. “—you come here to destroy it.”

Rey was losing track of the conversation. _They are one?_ What did that mean? She wanted to glance back at Kylo to see if he made any sense of it, but she wasn’t about to take her eyes off the threat in front of her.

“Well?” Verrannallu said. “What will you do?”

The man, with his long ropes of pale hair hanging down his back, gestured to the Jannessi behind him. “All of you. Go. There is much to discuss.” He turned to Verrannallu and tipped his head respectfully. “Please, will you come tell us what you’ve seen?”

The healer flicked a glance back at Rey, then nodded. With many backwards glances, everyone shuffled out.

Blazing lightsaber still in hand, Rey paced back and forth in front of their sheltered little nook. The sound of voices gradually died away, then the fear and alarm and uncertainty tumbling through the Force around them.

She blew out a breath, deactivated the lightsaber and walked back to Kylo.

He glared up at her. “Don’t,” he said, “get between me and a threat again.”

Several replies went through her head, none particularly prudent. “Sorry,” she finally said.

“You’re not.”

“I didn’t want to see a bunch of scared people get killed.”

His glare didn’t soften. “ _Scared people_ will kill you quicker and with fewer scruples than an enemy.”

She thought of Luke, a lightsaber, and a sleeping boy. She dropped to the straw. “Sorry,” she said, meaning it this time. “But I think I had it handled.”

“Did you?”

“If they came at you, you think I wouldn’t have done something about it?”

“ _Scared people?_ ” he mocked.

She frowned. “If I had to.”

“Sometimes there isn’t time to decide if you have to.”

She pushed to her feet again. “I wonder how I survived all these years without you to tell me that.”

He looked taken aback, as if he’d forgotten. Maybe he had. He was still half-dead from blood loss. It probably wasn’t fair to be arguing with him, or to expect a simple “thank you.” Still, she was angry.

“ _Lie down_. When you’re better, you won’t have to worry about where I decide to stand.”

She stalked off.


	14. Afraid of the Dark

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Kylo Ren protects Rey from the powerful dark side manifestation that comes with Jannessi's night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks, you wonderful readers! You make my day every time I see a new comment and kudo. It's such a great incentive to keep going, knowing how much you enjoy this fic. I'll keep posting new chapters every week,

Even asleep, Kylo was aware of Rey, orbiting him like a bright moon. The sounds of her movement came and went in the barn. Sometimes he’d surface enough to identify them, more often not. When he woke, she’d come and make him drink, then go away again to whatever tasks occupied her.

She was angry. But she stayed near. For now, it was enough.

The light changed. The sound and smell of animals came, a glimpse of tall, six-legged beasts lumbering across the narrow slot that opened into the barn. Kylo decided he could easily get very tired of seeing nothing of the world but what lay beyond that slot.

The sound of a man’s voice came: “You didn’t have to do all that, missy!”

Rey replying: “I was glad for something to keep me busy. I saw the speeder under the tarp. If I can get hold of parts, I can fix it.”

Kylo didn’t like it. She wasn’t a scavenger anymore. She deserved better than laboring for their keep in some farmer’s barn.

The men came, father and son, dusty and sweaty and smelling of their animals. Strangers with whom Kylo had to restrain himself as they tended to his necessities, only doing so because he could feel Rey’s anxious touch through their bond. He looked at the boy will disfavor. What _had_ he said to her this morning to upset her? He’d take it from his mind, if he had to.

When the healer arrived, Rey followed, still anxious though she was trying not to show it.

With the two farmers helping lift and move him, the Jannessi woman changed his bandages. It was painful. Kylo gritted his teeth and struggled with the urge to throw them all through the barn walls.

“If you’re going to hover, girl,” the healer said, “come over here and learn something.”

Rey started guiltily and hurried over. The boy gave her a knowing grin and moved to make room for her. Kylo narrowed his eyes.

“Hold this.” The healer took Rey’s wrist in her two-thumbed grasp and planted her hand on Kylo’s shoulder, on the end of a bandage wrapping.

Rey’s touch was like a cool river rushing over a raging brush fire. He let out a breath and relaxed.

“Hmmm.” The healer glanced keenly at him and nodded once. “Good,” she said to Rey. “Now pay attention. You need to know how to do this.”

Kylo was aware of Rey’s touch, of her bending over him, helping shift him. A pleasant distraction, he decided.

“This morning…” Rey began.

Verrannallu snorted. “They were fools. They sensed Nightkind within the walls—how could they not? But with you by him, blinding them, they didn’t see what _sort_ of Nightkind. When they finally bothered to look, they decided to rethink strategy.”

“Um,” Rey said cautiously. “Strategy?”

“They came to kill him,” the healer said. “I thought it was obvious.”

Rey’s hand flexed on his shoulder.

“ _Scared people_ ,” he muttered, just loud enough for her to hear. If you could feel a flinch through the bond, that’s what he felt.

“How soon can he move?” Rey asked.

“Not soon enough for them.”

“Maybe we should—”

“ _Should_ and _can_ are two different things,” the healer broke in.

“But—” Rey’s hand fell away.

Pain and the urge to violence came rushing back.

“Did I tell you to let go?” the healer snapped.

Rey jumped and put her hand back. Calm washed over him again.

“Verrannallu,” she said firmly. “Why are you doing this? You could just let him die.”

Kylo was amazed at how brutal she could be. But she was right. Let him die, problem solved. What could she do to prevent it? Force the healer to treat him at the point of his lightsaber?

The woman snorted. “You showed me that red blade when I argued.”

Kylo blinked.

“No!” Rey said. “I didn’t mean— I was only trying— I was just showing you I could take care of whatever you were worried about.”

The healer chuckled.

“Now, missy,” the farmer chided. “Let him die! As if we’d do such a thing.”

“We’re a danger to you,” Rey told him. “And all you’ve done is help us.”

It took every ounce of self-control Kylo possessed to keep from turning to look at her. _We, us_. Not _he, him_. Did she hear herself? Did she realize what she’d said?

“The Brightfolk won’t do us no harm,” the man said. “It’s not in their nature.”

The Brightfolk were perfectly willing to do _him_ harm, though—if they could.

 “The others won’t,” the healer said. “Not now that they’ve seen the two of them together.”

“They could see our bond,” Kylo said.

Father and son started, as if they’d forgotten he was there—or conscious.

“Is that what that man meant?” Rey said. “When he said, ‘They are one?’”

“Mmm,” the healer said. “He meant you two, the fact of you, give us something new to consider.”

Kylo had come here for answers. And power. He decided whoever else might die, it wouldn’t be this healer.

The woman stood and folded two arms, drumming the fingers of another hand on one hip. The free hand waved, dismissing the boy and his father. She pointed a finger at Rey, then down at the ground. “You stay here. Night comes. Brightkind don’t wander after dark here, and you’ve been careless. Understand, girl?”

He sensed Rey’s annoyance—she didn’t like being told what to do.

“What happens if I don’t?” she said, because she always had to challenge.

The healer gave her a hard look. “You’ll be destroyed.”

“I’ll stay here,” Rey said quietly.

* * *

The barn doors shut, locking her in with Kylo for another night. Rey stood staring at them for a moment, her heart beating faster than it should. He was definitely _Kylo_ right now—not much _Ben_ was in evidence. She felt like he was an explosion waiting to happen.

“What’s wrong?” he said behind her.

She thought about what kind of look to put on her face and couldn’t decide. Finally, she turned. “Did I ever tell you about the time I was scavenging a bomber?”

He eyed her from his bed of fleeces. Lying down like that, he didn’t look nearly as threatening as what she sensed from him.

“You’ve never told me anything about your life,” he said.

She nodded. “The dunes had mostly covered it. I was digging through the sand when I found a load of armed bombs.”

He looked appalled.

“They bought me enough to eat for two months, but I made sure I kept my bomb scavenging down to a couple hours a day at the most. It was all I could stand.”

He waited for more, then understanding dawned on his face. “Rey—”

The hassash dropped down from the dim rafters overhead. Rey jumped back and crouched in a fighting stance, her hands raised to grip her nonexistent staff. She gusted a breath and straightened as the creature spidered across the straw to Kylo. He hadn’t even raised a hand to defend himself when it appeared. When it sniffed at him, fingering his fresh bandages with two of its long-fingered hands, he only watched it curiously.

“What is this?” he said.

“It’s a hassash. Nightkind.” _Another one of your lot_ , she thought but didn’t say. “It was here when I brought Verrannallu last night. I guess it had been cleaning your wound.” She shuddered.

“Why are you afraid of it?” he said. “It seems harmless.”

“Yeah. Except for the deadly bite.”

The hand he’d extended to the creature froze. With a whistling purr, it grasped his finger and pulled it down.

“Verrannallu said it’s yours,” she said.

“Mine?”

Rey shrugged. “It was…guarding you when we found it. I think anyone who tries to do anything to you will end up bitten.”

Kylo’s hand turned as the thing grasped finger after finger with its small hands.

She rubbed her arms. “I’ll go keep watch.”

* * *

Of course the bond didn’t let Rey escape him. Kylo still rumbled and seethed like a storm cloud on her horizon. Her only mercy was that he couldn’t stay awake long. She let out a breath and slumped when he fell asleep at last.

She paced to stay awake. The light from his bed-nook fanned into the barn’s dimness, reflected in the three eyes of the mallik watching her. In the dark where the light didn’t reach, one them one huffed sharply.

Rey stopped, swung around. More of the animals were stirring. She could hear their clawed feet in the straw. One made a high, keening sound on the edge of hearing.

She listened. Nothing. Nothing but the uneasy movement of the animals. Quietly, she walked toward them, wondering if the hassash had left Kylo and now disturbed them. Another one gave a sharp huff and dragged its claws through the straw. She turned toward it, reaching for Kylo’s lightsaber. She didn’t ignite it, though—she didn’t want to ruin her night vision or give away her position.

Still nothing. But there was _something_ —

The feeling stole up on her like a mirage rising with the sun. Like a nightmare, the world slid sideways and cracked open, letting terror seep in. She shook her head and gripped the lightsaber hard, letting its edges bite into her palm and fingers. It didn’t help. She still felt suspended halfway between waking and sleep, nightmare plucking at the seams of her mind, fraying them, breathing cold on her neck.

She could hear her pulse rushing in her ears. The air was heavy and choking, hard to breathe. Somewhere, eyes opened, watching in the dark. No, not _somewhere_. There. Outside the doors.

Igniting the lightsaber, she strode toward them.

* * *

The sound of a lightsaber igniting snapped Kylo’s eyes open, sent his heart pounding into his throat.

This time, there was no green glow, no Luke. The fractured hum he heard was the sound of his own weapon.

The dark side of the Force surged around him. He gripped the fear pounding at him, trying to control it before he realized it wasn’t his own.

He shoved up onto one elbow. “Rey?”

No reply. The only thing he could sense through their bond was mind-blinding fear. He couldn’t see her, but he could see the lightsaber’s red glow on the dirt floor beyond the shelter. The next moment, she crossed the slot opening into the barn, heading for the doors. She held his lightsaber two-handed, as if facing an enemy.

“Rey!”

She didn’t hear him, or wasn’t paying attention—she kept right on going. Alarm burned through him. He couldn’t help her—

Unless she drew the enemy to him.

He pushed to a sitting position. His head swam, his vision going dark around the edges.

He struggled to get his feet under him anyway, then stopped struggling. Drawing on the dark side, he stood.

“Rey, stop! Come to me!”

She didn’t turn. The bond only dropped him into that vortex of fear. He reached out a hand to grab her by Force—

The hassash hissed and raced toward her, gathered its legs and launched itself at her.

It landed on her arm. She shrieked and spun, holding out her arm and trying to shake it off. The hassash gave a whistling hiss, opened its wide, toothy mouth. Still shrieking, she raised the lightsaber in her other hand. Not to stab or slash at the hassash. The weapon’s arc would slash off her arm.

“No!” Kylo reached out, ripped the lightsaber from her hand. It flew and smacked into his.

The hassash leapt off her, landing so that it blocked her way to the doors. Raising up on its six limbs, still hissing, it lunged at her. She stumbled backward, toward Kylo, tripped on something in the straw and fell.

She curled up tight, quivering, head tucked down and arms locked around her knees.

This time the fear was his own. He’d never seen her like this. Even when he hunted her, she’d kept her head, firing shots accurate enough to force him to deflect them with his lightsaber.

He opened himself, sensing as far as he could reach. Yes. There was something out there. Other minds. Dark minds. Not close, not close enough to threaten yet. Was that what she felt, but thought them closer?

“ _Rey_.” The dark was in his voice—he could hear it.

So did she. Her head jerked up, her eyes white all the way around. She scuttled backward on all fours. Behind her, the hassash gave a threatening whine. She stopped. Kylo reached for her.

“Don’t!” she gasped.

He dropped his hand. She folded up again, hiding her face against her knees.

“They aren’t near.” He tried for a normal tone of voice. “There’s nothing to fight here.”

“It’s out there,” she said, voice muffled against her knees. “It’s watching. Can’t you feel it?”

He sensed again through that massive heave of the dark side. A bad feeling crept over him. Whatever— _who_ ever it was trying to draw her out.

“Rey. Come here.”

She clutched her knees and rocked. “I don’t think I can,” she finally said.

“You’re going to have to, if you don’t want me to come get you.”

She didn’t reply. From the shaking of her shoulders, she was either crying or trying not to.

The hassash gave a grating hum and crept closer. She unlocked again and scooted away, toward Kylo.

He stood where he was, power from the dark side flowing through him. “You can’t go out there. Come to me.”

She glanced at him then quickly away. “Don’t reach for me. Don’t go into my mind.”

She was remembering Starkiller Base. “What about through the bond?”

Her fingers clenched in the straw. “I don’t know.”

He tried, as delicately as he could. With the dark so ascendant, he couldn’t offer anything like reassurance. He considered, then offered his desire to have her close, lowering himself down so he wouldn’t loom so menacingly. He’d done the same when he’d awakened her in the interrogation room.

He pressed one hand to the ground, gripped his knee with the other to keep from reaching. “It’s all right,” he said. “You can come here now.”

She flung herself at him so suddenly he almost toppled over. She clutched him, her fingers digging into him, hid her face in his shoulder. She was crying—he could feel her tears on his skin. She shook so hard it felt almost like a seizure.

Instinct told him to grip so she couldn’t get away. The dark in him wanted to consume, devour. _He_ wanted to.

It was the same impulse that had driven him to say a thing like, “I can take whatever I want,” while she was restrained and helpless. And look where that had gotten them. She was still terrified—terrified! _Her!_ —if he reached for her.

Of course she was. A girl, alone, living in a place like Jakku? Her dream last night showed exactly the kind of threats she’d had to face. No wonder she’d been trying to escape him ever since he caught her.

He concentrated on his desire, searching for a less threatening manifestation. Possessiveness? No. Not that, even though it was there. _Protection_.

He slowly breathed out, turning the compulsion into a new channel. Like turning his power to a new Force skill.

Very gently, he laid the hand of his wounded arm over hers, cupped her head with the other, holding her close. _Don’t be afraid_ , he almost said. He caught himself, remembering the last time he’d said that to her.

“You’re with me,” he whispered. “It can’t reach you. I won’t let it.”

She shook, but he could feel her listening.

“Do you still feel it?”

A jerky nod against his chest.

He breathed slowly, conjuring images for her. “You’re on an island in an ocean.” It had once been comforting. Would it still be, even after he’d stolen it from her? “A storm surges. The wind gusts and howls. Waves crash, salt spray blowing all around. But you’re safe, sheltered. It can’t reach you.”

Her trembling ebbed.

He thought of the hut on Ahch-To, when they’d touched. “There’s a fire, lighting the darkness. It’s driftwood, burning with every color—blue, green, crimson, gold, like shimmering cloth. So warm—can you feel it, the heat of the flames on your skin? You can smell the salt, the sweet smell of the wood burning…”

She sagged and the bond went still. _Exhausted_ , he thought. Contending with the surging dark around them, contending with him—he hadn’t misunderstood her story about the bombs.

Closing his eyes, he leaned his head back. The dark swelled all around, pouring strength into him, _power_. Rey, nestled in his arms, blazed like the fire he’d imagined for her. He could almost feel the light of her trickling through his veins, turning his heart into a glowing jewel.

Buoyed between opposing powers, he opened his eyes again. The hassash had crept close, making a crooning noise so soft it was barely a whisper. It raised three hands as if to grasp her.

He began to nudge it away, but it withdrew first. All but one spidery hand, lightly stroking the fabric of her trousers over her ankle.

* * *

Rey woke slowly. She felt loggy, leaden, somehow far away, like she had to pour herself back into her body. She’d been somewhere bright and windy, a gleam and glitter off in the distance. Ben had held her and whispered pretty words in her ear.

He held her now, pressed along her whole length. His arm was tucked around her middle, the fingers of his other hand tangled loosely in her hair.

She dragged her eyes open. Tufts of shaggy brown fur met her gaze, a tumble of straw indistinct in the dim dawn light, a wall of fleece bales a short distance away. Dim, web-shrouded rafters stretched high overhead.

 _Oh_. The barn. On Jannessi. And that wasn’t Ben holding her. It was Kylo Ren.

She should cringe with embarrassment. But the memory of his voice came: _You’re safe_. Whispering poetry—

 _Poetry_. Kylo Ren, so full of darkness she couldn’t bring herself to look at him, had whispered pretty words to her, because she was afraid.

Embarrassment could come later. And it would. For now, she stayed where she was, the bond between them quiet, his sleeping breaths fluttering her hair.

* * *

Luke lowered his hand and released the Force as his X-wing settled onto the outcropping. The ship streamed seawater and glistening brown ribbons of seaweed. A mosaic of mollusks clung to the undersides of the wings. A fish flopped out of the cockpit and twisted back and forth on the narrow rock shelf under the fighter’s bent landing gear, then flipped back into the heaving waves below.

He ducked underneath the fighter and peered up into the astromech socket, shielding his face from dripping water. He shouldn’t have bothered. He already knew what he’d find—electronics corroded beyond repair, mechanisms encased in over a decade’s worth of silt and enterprising sea life.

The X-wing wasn’t going anywhere. He’d drowned it for exactly that purpose. For the first time in all these years, he bitterly regretted it.

Now that he was once more open to it, he could feel the currents moving through the Force. It was strange, like nothing he’d ever felt before, as if some great realignment was taking place. Like the Force was transforming into some shape he couldn’t recognize.

He reached out desperately with his mind, trying to feel. What was it? What was happening?

All he knew for sure was that Leia was gone. How or under what circumstances, he didn’t know. He’d only felt her despair, her sorrow and grief. He’d felt a few strange moments when something seemed to pull at her—a dark, desperate power. In the end, she’d slipped away.

He hadn’t cared when Rey told him Leia had sent her. He _told_ himself he didn’t care. Now he discovered the lie. One more pain and regret to add to the rest.

He’d lost everything. Ben. Himself. His twin sister.

 _Lose Rey, we must not_ , Yoda had said.

Too late.

Not only had he lost Rey—he’d driven her away. Pushed her right into the arms of the dark side. Bad enough his weakness and fear had driven Ben Solo to Snoke. But then to do the exact same thing to another Force-sensitive of equal power? Was this the dark side’s way of exacting payment for his turning of Darth Vader, his father?

Water smelling of salt and fish dripped cold on his face. He brushed it off. Brushing aside anger and fear, he stepped out from under the fighter. He’d wanted never again to be able to take action that could reverberate through the galaxy. He’d wanted to be helpless. And now that he was, he discovered that even the refusal to act could create consequences.

Those consequences, he feared, were beyond anything he’d ever foreseen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A reminder: in this alternate timeline, the Resistance accepted Kylo Ren's terms of surrender. Since they surrendered, Luke never sacrificed himself to distract Kylo Ren while they escaped.


	15. Partners

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Rey learns things she's not sure she really wants to know.

Morning came with consequences: shouting, fearful, angry voices. _Oh, no_ , Rey thought.

She pushed away from Kylo. She still felt heavy, too slow, but she ran for the barn door. Muzzy with sleep, he called to her. She only waved a hand and kept going. One thing at a time.

People filled the streets, again shouting, again brandishing weapons. This time they weren’t converging on the barn but seemed to be gathering for some other purpose. Fear shimmered in the air, as strong as last night. Somehow, it didn’t overcome her now.

Jaegar and Tam stood just outside the door to their house, deep in discussion. She hurried to them. Shouts echoed along the street.

“It was me,” she said, panting a little. “It was my fault.”

Jaegar frowned. “What are you talking about, missy?”

“I’m sorry,” she said quickly. “Really, I am. I had a nightmare. I thought something was outside. I was going to chase it off.” She touched the lightsaber at her belt.

Tam reared back. “Drive off the Nightfolk? At _night?_ ”

“Daylight’s the time to do it.” Jaegar gestured to the street behind her. “That’s where everyone’s going now. We’ll be joining them soon enough.”

“What can I do?” Rey said. “I didn’t know it scared everyone else.”

 Verrannallu’s voice came from behind her. “What you can do,” she said, “is tell me what happened.”

“I know you told me,” Rey said quickly as the healer steered her toward the barn. “I forgot. All I could think of was going after whatever it was—”

The healer sighed. “Of course you forgot, the Nightfolk calling like that. Even the humans felt it this time.” She turned to the father and son. “We’ve taken on a whole herd of trouble, I fear.”

Rey’s skin prickled. She resisted an impulse to reach for Kylo’s lightsaber. “What are you talking about?”

Verrannallu looked sharply at her, opening her third eye wide and scanning Rey from head to toe. “Look at that.”

“What?” Rey said, suspicious.

“Verrannallu,” Jaegar began, worried.

The healer waved a hand. “No need to worry. All is well.” She steered Rey into the barn.

Kylo was sitting up now, leaning against the bales behind him. Even sitting, he exuded subdued menace. It definitely wasn’t comforting, but an odd sense of relief spread through Rey.

Verrannallu only cocked her head and studied him the way she had Rey. “More and more interesting.” She gave a dry smile. “Feeling better this morning, Night-one?”

“Much.” There was a world of warning in that one word.

“No doubt.” The healer settled on a bale and folded her arms. “Now tell me what happened last night.”

Rey went hot, stammering.

Kylo glanced at her, then said. “The dark side rose, very strong, as strong as I’ve ever felt it. It seemed to enthrall Rey, calling to her. I had to stop her.”

“Did you, now, Night-one,” Verrannallu said.

“He has a name,” Rey muttered under her breath.

“Kylo,” he said. He flicked her another glance. She couldn’t quite read it.

“Kylo,” Verrannallu drawled. “You wouldn’t let this Bright-one go to the Nightfolk, your kin?”

“No,” he said flatly.

“Mmm.” The healer linked arms around knees and rocked thoughtfully. “Now let me tell you what we felt last night. The dark rising, like a foul fog.” She brought a hand slowly upward. “Terror, like a nightmare one can’t wake from.”

Rey stiffened. That was exactly what it had felt like.

“And then…” Verrannallu waved her hand, as if making something magically disappear. “It all died away.”

“I shielded her,” he said.

“You did. Night-one.”

Rey bristled, not liking what felt like a deliberate insult.

“Why?” Verrannallu said. “Did the dark not speak to you, too? Did it not call you to join it? Did it not give you strength, power?”

Kylo didn’t flinch from her gaze. “Yes.”

Rey went cold, remembering how he’d looked standing over her, no less terrifying than he’d been in the woods on Takodana.

“And you _shielded_ her.” The healer’s laced the fingers of two hands together. “Your weakness is much less this morning,” she said casually.

His eyes narrowed. “You know what that is. The dark—”

“Night doesn’t _heal_ ,” Verrannallu broke in.

Surprise and uncertainty whispered through the bond. Rey looked at him, questioning, but he didn’t meet her eyes.

Verrannallu abruptly turned to Rey. “How do you feel this morning, girl?”

“Exhausted. That—whatever that was last night—if it hadn’t been for him—”

The healer waved her silent. “Well?” she said to Kylo. “Will you tell her?”

“What are you accusing him of?” Rey flared, losing patience with a conversation that was all shadows and insinuation. “Last night—” She swallowed. “Last night, I was terrified. The only thing he did was make sure I wasn’t.”

“Is that all?” Verrannallu asked Kylo.

“What else?” he said.

Verrannallu pinned him with her gaze. “And this, between you?” She gestured to indicate the bond. “What do you know of it? Is it your doing?”

He didn’t answer for a long, dreadful moment. “It might be.”

Rey sucked in a breath, going cold. She bolted to her feet with a sudden, powerful desire to run. Kylo only looked at up at her, his mouth tight, eyes pleading. The naked fear she saw there was the only thing that kept her in place.

“When?” she whispered. “When, Ben?”

“On Starkiller Base. When I went into your mind, and you pushed back into mine. Maybe. I’m not sure. But that was when it started. You used the Force to compel the guard to release you—we questioned the man. Had you done anything like that before?”

“I—” Her throat was tight. “It was like—I _knew_ …” She trailed off.

“Remember, in the forest?” he said. “You couldn’t fight me. Then you could.”

She remembered. The way knowledge had poured into her from _somewhere_ , showing her body how to move, giving her physical strength she didn’t have—strength to match his. She’d thought it was the Force—

“That was _you?_ ”

“I think so. I felt the connection.” His eyes still pleaded.

“Snoke didn’t do it?”

“Snoke is dead,” he pointed out.

And the bond wasn’t. She wondered why that would make it feel a little better. It _shouldn’t_ feel better.

Verrannallu had been listening, narrow-eyed, to all this. “This joining wasn’t by design?”

“No,” he said, answering the healer, but holding Rey’s eyes.

Something in her eased.

“And did you take her strength last night?” Verrannallu went on. “Or was it gifted?”

Kylo opened his mouth to speak.

“Wait, what?” Rey said first.

Verrannallu turned to her. “You saw him yesterday. You see him today.”

“But—”

“Girl, he received a mighty healing. None I could do.”

Rey just sat with her mouth open.

Kylo looked grim, but not shocked. “If I took it, it wasn’t deliberate.”

She thought of him whispering to her, holding her. “Did anyone think I might just want him _well?_ ”

He glanced at her in surprise.

Verrannallu made one of her thoughtful noises. “Let me tell you a story.” She leaned back, linked two arms around her knees, braced the heels of the other two hands in the straw. “It’s said that the Brightfolk and Nightfolk were once, long, long ago, one people. One tale says some turned to the Night for power. Another says some embraced the Bright for purity. Others say Jedi or Sith came with their false, foreign teachings. Whatever may have happened, the results are clear. The Force broke. It split into Bright and Night, and there has been nothing but strife since. Night always trying to annihilate Bright, Bright striving to drive back Night. While the Force, broken and wounded, ever seeks to mend itself. To become whole again.”

She studied Rey, then Kylo, with all three eyes. “So you see why we find your…partnership deeply interesting.”

Rey’s face heated. She refused to look at Kylo, but she had no doubt he sensed her reaction. Again.

Verrannallu must’ve sensed it, too. She crooked a dry smile and chuckled. “Have a care for your new strength, _Kylo_.” The name came out mocking. “Don’t waste her gift. This healing doesn’t mean healed.”

She stood and made her way out.

Rey avoided looking at Kylo, but could feel him watching her.

“What did she say that upset you?” he said.

Could he _ever_ tell when to leave well enough alone? Pretty soon he’d start pestering her to say it.

She gritted her teeth and muttered, “Our partnership.”

“Isn’t that what we have?”

“You kidnapped me, Ben! Twice! Now we’re _partners?_ ”

“Yes.”

“I didn’t…” She waved her arms. “I didn’t decide any of this!”

“We don’t always choose our paths.” He gave her a dark look. “How much choice do you think I had in my life? My mother was Princess of Alderaan, and a Senator. My uncle is Luke Skywalker. Jedi, Prince, Senator’s son… Everything was already decided for me. What I’d be. What I’d do.” His eyes blazed. “Did Luke tell you who my grandfather was?”

Rey’s breath seemed to stop. She shook her head.

“No. Of course not. Something else that wouldn’t reflect well on him. Should I tell you?” He studied her. “I think I will. My grandfather was a man named Anakin Skywalker. You’ve probably heard of him under another name—Darth Vader.”

She’d known something was coming. She didn’t expect this. But what hit her wasn’t shock or horror, but anger. After everything else she knew about him, he had to add _this?_

“Why tell me something like that?” she flared. “Are you trying to scare me?”

“What do you think?”

“I think if you _answered_ me, I’d know.”

He glared at her. “No. I’m not trying to scare you. But you’ll be afraid of me now.”

She almost rolled her eyes. “Then why tell me?”

“Because it’s something my _partner_ deserves to know.”

That rocked her back. How much courage did it take to tell her that fact? She’d never heard even a whisper of it before—not from Luke, or Finn, or even rumor. Snoke had said something about Kylo being Darth Vader’s heir, but she hadn’t realized he meant it literally.

“Thank you,” she said quietly.

He looked surprised, then wary. “It changes the way you look at me.”

She took a breath, then paused. “I don’t know what it changes, or how I feel about it.” Her voice fell. “I don’t know how I feel about a lot of things right now.”

He was trying to be honest with her. He was trying to tell her, _This is who I am. I’m not hiding anything from you_. He knew she’d be upset about the bond, but he told her anyway.

“How long have you known about it? That you created the bond?” she said.

“I don’t _know_. I suspect. The evidence lines up.” His eyes narrowed at some inner vision. “When Snoke said he created it, it felt—wrong. I think that was for you, to weaken you, make you doubt.” He shook his head. “To weaken both of us. It had to alarm him that it happened at all. And he was too eager to see you dead. That surprised me, especially after what I saw when we touched.”

“That I’d turn.”

“It would make more sense to try to turn you, first. You’re young. You’re untrained. But he didn’t even try. Just ordered me to kill you.” He was quiet again a moment. “I wonder what he thought that would do to _me?_ He already knew what—” He broke off, his gaze sliding away.

She felt the direction of his thoughts: Han Solo, pierced by his lightsaber. The agonizing churn of his emotions came through the bond before he cut it off. She wished she could cut off the memory as easily.

Grief clogged her throat. _Grief_ , for a man she’d liked but had only known a couple of days. Was it what Kylo said that time? Searching for parents, for a father? And for those couple of days—

She coughed to get rid of the feeling in her throat, ignoring Kylo’s gaze on her, deliberately avoiding any attempt to read it.

“I have some things to do this morning,” she said, trying to sound businesslike.

“Rey—”

She gave a dismissive wave. “It’s fine. Don’t worry about it.”

Which was a ridiculous thing to say. _Kylo Ren_ wasn’t going to worry about how she felt about things.

She thought about the look in his eyes when he revealed his suspicions about the bond. About his words: _It’s something my partner deserves to know_. She knew she was lying to herself.

* * *

Rey was avoiding him. He’d approached too near, and now she was trying to run away again.

Kylo breathed out frustration. _Almost_ , he thought. _Again_. He sensed she might’ve come around to accepting last night’s closeness. This morning—

It was too much, too soon. But she’d said, _I don’t know how I feel about it_. She might not be running away. Only trying to get some space to decide.

Or not. She seemed awfully busy at some mysterious task, back and forth across the entrance to their shelter, up and down the bales that made it, trailing lengths of twine. He watched a while, first to distract himself from his thoughts, then with genuine curiosity.

She tied a rope to a half-broken bucket, threw one end over a rafter and hoisted it up. From the effort she put into it, the bucket was full of something heavy. She tied off that rope, picked up another and pulled it back and forth into some intricate arrangement.

“What are you doing?” he finally said.

“Setting traps.” She picked up a broken spade, tested its balance point and tied the loose end of the rope there. “I had traps all around my shelter on Jakku. After—” She glanced up at him, then down again. “After.”

“After your middle-of-the-night intruders.”

She made a face at that. “It seems people on this planet don’t like one or the other of us.” She brought the broken shovel, tied to its rope, to one wall, tied it off with a length of twine. “Traps might be useful.”

That “us” eased something tight in him. He thought about arguing that her traps were more likely to catch an innocent victim, then decided she had plenty of experience in this.

She ran the twine along the wall to the ground, fixed it in place with a bent nail then ran it across the ground, pulling it tight and tying it off.

Brushing straw across it to conceal it, she said, “That’s the tripwire.” She offered the end of another length of twine. “Pull that to disarm it.”

He took the looped and knotted end, carefully testing the tension, then pulled it. The straw collapsed where the tripline was hidden. Rey nodded and restrung it.

She straightened, brushing off her hands and clothes. “It looks like everyone is off hunting Nightfolk.” the corners of her lips twitched up and a glint came into her eyes. “But not you. I hope.”

Those last two words pierced him.

“I still have some things to do,” she said. A bit of straw on her trousers seemed suddenly engrossing. “If you…um, if anyone…”

“You’ll know through the bond if I’m in trouble,” he said.

She could be so blunt about some things. He suspected the things she couldn’t quite say outright were those where she was most vulnerable. Han. Her parents. Protecting him? Interesting.

“Right. Okay then.” It seemed she’d say something more, but she only nodded, turned and left him.


	16. Challenges

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Rey shows off then she and Kylo insult each other. Bad Feelings result. (Oh, and there's a wet t-shirt moment in there somewhere, too.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Someone asked for a double chapter. This one and the next worked out well for a twofer, so here you go!
> 
> Thanks so much for your comments, kudos, bookmarks and subscriptions. Every one is a little gift I treasure.

Armed with buckets and a pile of rags, Rey stood at the base of the Silencer’s boarding ladder. The wind whipped at her hair, plastering her too-large shirt to her body. It still felt good to be outside in the open. She took a long breath, let it out, relishing the melting sensation of Jannessi’s orange sun, so different from the ruthless blast of Jakku’s.

She’d already taken time to make the acquaintance of the dump outside the town’s walls. That was where the rags came from. It looked like she might be able to find parts for the old speeder in the barn, too. And a new staff. Definitely a new staff. Kylo’s lightsaber was fine, if a little unnerving, but it wasn’t like she could set it on stun if she wanted to.

She started up the ladder, the full bucket bumping and splashing. Resting it on one rung, she opened the fighter’s hatch. A slaughterhouse stench assaulted her. Rey recoiled, gagging.

 _Blood_ , she’d figured, _ugh_. She hadn’t thought about what it would be like after stewing in a closed cockpit for two nights and a day. Thirty-year-old derelict wrecks were _nothing_ compared to this. Not to say she hadn’t found desiccated bodies from time to time, but they’d long since lost their stink.

Breathing through her mouth until she was sure she wouldn’t have to clean up vomit in addition to the blood, she heaved the bucket up and dropped into the fighter’s reeking cabin.

* * *

It took a long time. A long time, a lot of rags, and a lot of trips up and down that ladder for fresh buckets of water. Just like being home again. Except for all the water.

Sweaty, stinking and halfway-queasy, Rey trudged back inside the town’s walls and through winding streets to the barn. She saw few people—children and old people, mostly, and a couple of young Jannessi mothers, babies on their hips, talking in hushed tones by the pump house. Rey pretended not to notice their stares as she passed.

She scooped up a bucket of water from a trough outside the barn on her way in. A glance showed her Kylo awake and propped upright on his bed of fleeces. She trudged past to one of the mallik pens, plunked down the bucket and set about trying to scrub off the slaughterhouse stink.

Two more buckets of water took care of everything but her clothes. She glanced around, checked through the bond to make sure Kylo was still where she’d left him and stripped to finish washing, dunking and scrubbing her clothes last. The bloodstains she guessed she’d just have to live with. She wrung out underthings and shirt and pants, put everything back on and went outside to chuck out the rusty water in the bucket.

Kylo hadn’t said a word as she tromped back and forth. Sensing her mood through the bond, maybe. Maybe not, though. It hadn’t bothered him when she’d shot at and cursed him. More likely her reek had wafted to him where he lay. She wasn’t sure why the thought irritated her.

Her hair dripping down her back, her clothes clinging wetly to her body, she stomped into the little shelter.

His eyes flicked up and down her, darkening to more than the usual deep brown.

 _What?_ she felt like snapping, but said instead, “The controls on your ship are locked out.” It still sounded snappy.

His eyes jerked up to hers and narrowed. “What were you doing at the controls of my ship?”

“I was trying,” she said with exaggerated patience, “to get it somewhere _out_ of _sight_ of the _whole galaxy_.”

He blinked as if that was the last thing he’d ever consider. “It’s biometrically keyed to me. I’m the only one who can bring it online.”

“Gngh,” she said and stomped out again.

After everything, _everything_ she’d done, he thought she was trying to escape? And, what, leave him here, wounded among strangers? Strangers who’d _really_ rather he was dead?

Fuming, she crossed to the old, broken-down speeder bike in the corner. Picking up a rag, she started wiping off the dust and dirt and hair that furred it. Working on it would give her something better to think about than Kylo Ren’s chronic distrust.

While she was busy, it was easier to ignore her sense of him. The sudden pulse in the Force wasn’t. She kept working, anyway, focusing on the repulsor coil she was replacing, on the tool in her hand. Still, she heard his dragging steps, his grunt as he lowered himself to a bale. That explained his use of the Force.

The work was helping her mood. It was interesting, and it gave her pleasure to make broken things whole again. Even Kylo’s silent company was nice, in a strange sort of way.

Her nose itched. She rubbed it, knowing she was probably smearing grease and dirt across it, but it didn’t matter. It _did_ matter when her wrench slipped and she bashed her knuckles. She cursed under her breath, shook out her hand and went on.

The bad mood was coming back. She tried to ignore it, then push it away. It took a few more minutes to realize the simmering anger and disapproval tapping at her consciousness weren’t her own.

She set down her wrench and turned. Kylo was watching her, the disapproval on his face exactly the same as what she sensed.

“What’s wrong with you?” she demanded.

“You shouldn’t be doing that.”

“Doing _what?_ ”

“That.” He waved a hand at the disassembled speeder. “Cleaning the blood from the ship.”

He _had_ smelled her reek. Or the bloodstains on her clothes gave her away.

“Cleaning up after _animals_ ,” he went on. “You aren’t a scavenger now, Rey.”

“Someone has to do it. And you can’t. Not when you have to use the Force to get up and walk fifteen steps.” She probably shouldn’t taunt him about his weakness, but she was getting annoyed.

“I wouldn’t do it.”

She eyed him, definitely annoyed now. “Well, what _do_ you do? What did you do for the First Order?” She meant to sound jeering, but curiosity crept into her voice.

A knot appeared in his jaw. “I was Snoke’s eyes and ears. I made sure his bidding was done.”

“What does that mean?”

She was beginning to recognize that look on his face. The one that meant whatever he was about to say would be something she wouldn’t like, but he was going to say it anyway.

“I’ll give you an example,” he said. “If I’d gone after you on Jakku.” He cast her a dark, unreadable look. “I’d accompany the strike force—a few squadrons of stormtroopers, air support if necessary. Anyone who protected you, anyone who resisted would be killed. If there were signs of organized resistance, everyone would be killed. You’re high-value, so I’d be the one to collect you.”

He was right to think she didn’t want to hear it. “You’d have to find me, first,” she said fiercely. “And nobody finds me if I don’t want them to.”

He seemed to come out of his memories, back to the present. Interest sparked in his eyes. “Show me.”

Was it a challenge? After hearing how easily he thought he’d “collect her,” she’d take it as one.

She looked around. The animal pens were to her right and behind her, the bales of fleeces that made the wall of their shelter behind Kylo. High overhead stretched the rafters and loft—

 _Yes_.

She crossed to Kylo and hopped up onto the bale beside him, catching his surprised look before she jumped onto the bale of fleeces behind him. The fleeces were soft, furry, and offered plenty of hand- and footholds. Her muscles were a little sore from the workout earlier, but nothing she wasn’t used to.

Rocking on her feet on top of the bales, she made a running jump at the wall, grabbed a cross brace about chest-high and launched herself upward. She caught the rafter, used her momentum to swing herself up and hook a leg over it. From there, it was just a matter of hauling herself up until she straddled the beam.

It was showing off. Crawling through dead spacecraft, she’d had a rope, and she wasn’t usually contending with footing this narrow.

Far below her, Kylo looked up, squinting. She knew what he’d see—dimness and shadows made indistinct by the brighter light he sat in. He would’ve seen her jump, but now that she sat still…

 _You can’t find me now_ , she thought with the flutter of an inward laugh.

She began edging along the rafter, feet tucked under her, hands steadying her ahead. She crept past the wall of fleeces, into the middle of the barn where it was a straight drop to the floor. Once she got to the other wall, she could edge along a cross brace to the corner and come down inside their shelter. She imagined his surprise when she came strolling out the opposite way she’d left—

Her footing suddenly slipped. She bit back a gasp and lunged forward, wrapping her arms around the rafter. No, it wasn’t her footing. It was if the air had solidified, encasing her. Then it began to pull.

She was lying on a rafter a good five meters above the ground, and something was pulling her off. She swallowed a scream and hung on, clutching the splintery wood. The force—the Force gripping her was relentless. Gasping, she let go before her fingernails tore off.

She was used to heights, but not when she was, for all intents and purposes, floating in the air. Her stomach kept making disturbing dives and swoops inside her, and breathing was matter of one gasp after another. Kylo still sat on his bale below her, one hand extended, palm up. Clawing at nothing, she slowly descended toward him. He rotated his hand, and she rotated upright. She drifted gently down until her feet touched the ground. He lowered his hand and let her go.

He cocked his head, looking up at her. “Was it supposed to be a game? I thought it was. I won.”  He wasn’t smiling, but there was a smile in his eyes. “I would’ve won on Jakku, too,” he added.

She folded her arms, trying not to be captivated by that glimpse of humor, however smug and dry. “It isn’t the same. You knew I was there.”

“I did,” he agreed. “I also felt you pressing on my mind. Telling me not to look. That alone would’ve told me I was near an untrained Force-sensitive. If you were trained,” he explained, “you’d know quieter ways to hide. It would take me longer, but I’d still find you.”

She frowned and brushed futilely at the dust and dirt and cobwebs across her front. Crawling around in barn rafters, she was completely filthy again.

He leaned on one elbow. Beginning to wear out, she suspected.

“Did you often hide that way?” he said.

She shrugged. “For a while.” A grin tugged irresistibly at her lips. “Until they learned if I got to their speeders before they came out, they were in for a long, hot hike back to wherever they came from. People mostly stopped hunting me after that.”

“I would’ve enjoyed hunting you.”

It was alarming statement. It ran through her head a couple of times before his meaning occurred to her: _it would’ve been a challenge_.

She didn’t know why that pleased her. Maybe because a nobody scavenger from nowhere could challenge the mighty Kylo Ren, with all his knowledge and training and power.

 _I would have enjoyed it, too_ , she thought. Until she realized she wasn’t getting away, like she always did. That would’ve taken all the fun right out of it.

“And if you caught me?” she said.

“It didn’t happen that way,” he said, but he broke from her gaze.

Her mouth went dry. Something lurched in her middle, feeling a lot like when she’d been drifting down through the air.

It took her a moment to decide what it was. Pity. That as powerful as he was, he’d allowed things like the First Order and Snoke to swallow him up, allowed his actions and choices to be guided as they had been.

“If someone gave me a choice,” she said. “I’d rather be a scavenger.”

She turned and walked back to her speeder repairs.

* * *

 _I’d rather be a scavenger_. The words burned him. That she’d say that to _him_ —

If not for him, his power, his abilities, his _determination_ to keep her alive, she’d be dead many times over. Never in his life had he gone to such lengths for anyone. And for her to consider everything he was, all he’d ever done to be beneath her—a _scavenger!_

His lightsaber hung at her side as she bent over the grimy junk she was attempting to repair. His fingers curled with the urge to snatch it from her.

And then—what? As she so kindly reminded him, he was too _weak_ to do…much of anything. _Dependent_. On _her_ —

Abruptly, Kylo remembered the traps she’d set to protect him. Her defense of him—against the healer, against the hostile Jannessi. The healer saying, _You showed me that red blade when I argued_. Rey actually _had_ forced the woman to treat him at the point of his lightsaber—even if she’d convinced herself she meant something different.

He rubbed his head. It was pounding. He’d challenged her first, he realized, belittling the work she did, making light of her own abilities—which, he had to admit, were impressive. He’d be _dreaming_ of that hunt. As always, she rose to meet him. Pure Rey, nothing he didn’t already know. If her shots stung, it was because her aim was invariably flawless.

The sound of voices and the creaks and clicks and thumping footsteps of the mallikin approached. Kylo hunched his shoulders at the intrusion. He wasn’t up to dealing with people.

On the other side of the barn, Rey dropped her tools then came to stand by him, her arm just brushing his shoulder. Deliberately? The blackness of his mood lightened a little, enough to bear the noise and dust and smell of the animals, the farmers’ babble.

Rey took on the burden of carrying the conversation: _Did you find the Nightfolk?_

 _We went to the bluffs but the old cave was blocked. They must be using a new entrance_.

It was important. He should be paying attention, but everything around him was an increasingly grey buzz.

Rey’s hand on his shoulder jolted him out of the greyness. “Come on, Ben.”

Father and son were hauling up his bulk between them, jarring his wounded shoulder. He clenched his jaw and fought an impulse to violence. Walking ahead, Rey cast back a worried look. When he was lying flat again, the headache diminished, and his senses sharpened, enough to see Rey beside him, a comforting hand on his shoulder.

“I won’t be far,” she said quietly, stood and followed the farmer. Her voice speaking to the man drifted back: “I’ll fill the trough.”

Kylo had endured his share of degradation and humiliation over the years. They were, after all, Snoke’s stock in trade. But it was one thing to endure humiliation from a dark-side wielder more powerful than he. It was another entirely to have to endure it from a boy half his age with no ability whatsoever in the Force. A boy who, at the moment, was attempting to _help him_ _clean up_.

“I can take care of myself,” Kylo growled.

He leveled his most menacing stare at the boy, the one that made anyone cower but that oblivious idiot Hux. Hux and this boy, apparently. Lying flat on his back and the next thing to helpless, he shouldn’t be surprised.

“Pretty soon, I bet, Ben,” the boy said. “Me and Da was shocked to see you sitting up and all. Da figured you’d be down like a poled tummballog for days.”

“Only Rey calls me ‘Ben.’” That was the only warning-off the boy would get. He’d do well to take it.

“Oh. Sure.” The boy eyed him uncertainly. “What should I call you?”

“Kylo.”

“Okay. But you know, uh, Kylo, don’t feel bad. I know how it is. My cousin Dain was in a wreck racing speeders over on Berrwellan Flats a couple years ago. Broke both arms, couldn’t even wipe his own arse. You think you’re unhappy. You shoulda seen him.”

Kylo ground his teeth.

“Is it true?” the boy said. “You’re Nightkind? You don’t look like Nightkind.” He shrugged. “Not that I ever seen one.”

“You’ve seen one now.”

“Verrannallu says Rey is Bright. She seems just like anyone else.”

“Rey isn’t,” Kylo bit out, “like anyone else.”

“No, I guess not. Brightfolk and Nightfolk mostly try to kill each other off if they can. You and her…” He gave Kylo a wary look. Finally realizing the shaky ground he stood on? He shrugged again. “I guess you’re different.”

“Different” didn’t begin to describe them.

If the boy was going to prattle, he might as well get information out of him.

“What does hunting Nightfolk entail?” Kylo said.

“Not much, for us humans. Mostly looking for signs of ’em and telling the Brightfolk if we see any. Me and Da, we see all kinds of things when we’re out with the mallikin. Holes in the riverbank. Caves, in the bluffs. Tracks. Once we found this poor sod they’d caught.” The boy rubbed the back of his neck. “That was bad. Gev me nightmares for a long time.”

Kylo’s interest sharpened. “What happened?”

“He was…” The boy glanced over his shoulder then lowered his voice. “He was raving and screaming. Crying. We couldn’t understand half of what he said, only that he was right off his head. We couldn’t come anywheres near him without him screaming and cowering and trying to bite and claw us like an animal. Had to come back and get Verrannallu and Rasshinn and the rest. Don’t know what they done with him.” The boy looked troubled. “We didn’t see him after, though.”

Kylo narrowed his eyes.                    

The boy leaned down and lowered his voice even more. “Rey said she was going out last night to drive the Nightfolk off. Don’t let her, not even with that big red sword of hers.”

 _Hers?_ Kylo thought.

“Maybe don’t tell her what I said,” the boy went on, “about that poor mad chum, but don’t let her do no such thing.”

“No,” Kylo said. Not even if he had to put her to sleep again, as he had on Takodana.

* * *

Verrannallu drafted Rey to help change Kylo’s bandages again. The wound was…better. Amazingly better. Yesterday, it was a charred hole in his shoulder. Today, it looked halfway healed.

 _I did that?_ she thought, disbelieving. She didn’t know how she could have without meaning to. Without even being _awake_ , for that matter. The hassash must’ve done some of it.

It wasn’t quite so squirm-inducing to see him shirtless when he was a project, something else to fix. Rey tried not to think too much about how rounded his shoulders were with muscle, how it felt when he held her in his arms. If it was Ben holding her, it would be one thing. But…

Well, it _wasn’t_ Ben. She wouldn’t deceive herself about that anymore.

Verrannallu sat back when she was finished and studied them both. Rey didn’t know why she felt like cringing.

“The Nightfolk drew closer than they’ve been in years,” she said at last. “We all know why.”

“If we’re a danger—” Rey began.

“I didn’t come here to be driven off,” Kylo said.

“Why _did_ you come here?” the healer said.

“This planet is strong with the Force.”

Verrannallu cocked her head, drumming her fingers. “You came here wounded, fleeing…something.”

“I wasn’t—”

“Oh, yes. You were. So you come to this place strong with the Force for power, maybe allies. Yes?”

Kylo didn’t answer.

“What kind of allies would you find who would also accept your Bright-one?”

Rey’s stomach dipped at that. She’d asked him much the same on the moon where they’d met the Knights of Ren.

“He brought us _here_ ,” she said. “To you.”

“Did he? You came to me at the edge of night. Maybe it wasn’t the Brightfolk he sought.”

“I was here a long time ago,” Kylo said. “Before—” he broke off.

“Before you walked the Night path?”

Kylo gave her a sharp look.

“This planet is strong with the Force,” Verrannallu said. “Jannessi see what humans don’t.”

“What do you see?” Rey said.

Verrannallu gave one of her dry chuckles and sat back. “I see much difficulty for you ahead. Who will accept you both? Much, much difficulty. Much to tear you apart.”

 _They’ve already tried,_ Rey thought. Luke, Snoke…

“No one’s managed yet,” Kylo said.

There was something fierce in his voice that went straight to Rey’s heart.

“No. Not yet,” Verrannallu said. “Not even by each other.”

Kylo stiffened. Rey hunched her shoulders.

“Ah, you know that already, do you? Night and Bright have been severed a long, long time. There’s much instinct to overcome.” Her mouth turned up humorlessly. She turned to Rey. “Last night, with the dark so strong? You should be dead.”

“I never wanted to kill her,” Kylo snapped.

Rey glanced at him in surprise. She didn’t need the bond to recognize how angry the suggestion made him.

“But I’m still alive.” She narrowed her eyes at the healer. “Aren’t I?”

Verrannallu grinned, showing the points of sharp teeth like the hassash’s. “Yes. You are. Ask yourself why, girl.” She stood. “You shield him from Brighfolk. Make sure you let him shield you from Night. The Nightfolk don’t give up easily.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When Kylo Ren gets pissed, he gets _pissed_. I was worried he wasn't going to calm down after Rey insulted him, but hey, it was Rey. He never manages to stay mad at her for long.


	17. Stories and Dreams

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which stories are told and mysteries pondered.

Kneeling in the straw by the restrung tripwire, Rey looked up at Kylo. He looked back. Shaved and freshly bandaged, propped up on his bed of fleeces, he looked—he looked—

Well… _good_ , she had to admit. In more ways than one. Stronger than he had been only a few minutes ago.

It was almost dark outside. She could feel it. He obviously did, too. Her chest tightened.

“Are you going to ask me what we’re doing here?” he said.

Rey shrugged. “Surviving. Isn’t that enough?”

“No.”

No, it wouldn’t be. That rule-the-galaxy ambition must still be simmering. She couldn’t see him in that role. It was…what? Too big? Something else that would swallow him up? No, that wasn’t quite it, either. On the other hand, she couldn’t see him hiding out on some backwater planet for long, either.

“Then we’re surviving until you can stand up without using the Force.”

Impatience or resentment flickered over his face.

She drew up her knees, linked her arms around them. “You never wanted to kill me?” she said. “Never-ever, or just never last night?”

“Never,” he said.

“Oh.”

She thought of all the times she’d tried to kill him. Judging from the weight of his gaze, his thoughts were along the same lines.

“Why not?” she said. “Isn’t that what you’re supposed to do?”

 _Han, skewered on his lightsaber_ —

No. She didn’t want to go to that place.

His mouth tightened unhappily. “Maybe I enjoy tormenting myself. Pain fuels the dark side. Didn’t Luke teach you that?”

“No.” Had that image of Han been her own? Or leaked through the bond?

“Pain, anger, hate— You’ve been teetering on the edge, Rey. There isn’t much you seem to hate, but you were working on it with me. It would’ve be easy to let you keep hating me. I could have. Give you an excuse, and you’d turn to the dark all by yourself. I wouldn’t even have to push you.”

“You said you didn’t want me to turn. Are you warning me?”

He gave her a strange look, one that raised goosebumps on her arms. “Maybe,” he finally said.

The mallikin in their pens snorted and stamped. Rey whipped around, her hand going to Kylo’s lightsaber.

The hassash was scuttling toward them through the straw. Rey tried to suppress a shudder, but one weltered over her anyway. The creature came to the hidden tripwire and paused, cocking its head at her. Carefully, it raised one limb after another, lifting itself over the tripwire. Its wide, lipless mouth stretched in what Rey could only think of as a grin, then it scuttled over to Kylo, passing close enough to force Rey to step back.

Kylo watched her as it clambered up to his shoulder, fingering and sniffing at his bandages. “I don’t think it will hurt you.”

She thought of the thing clinging to her last night, the open, hissing mouth full of teeth, the three purple eyes glaring at her and shivered again. The tightness in her chest was increasing. It was getting hard to breathe.

She felt eyes on her back and turned, her hand going to the lightsaber again.

“Rey,” Kylo said sharply.

She jumped and turned back. “Right! Right. Sorry.”

The dark was rising again. She could feel the nightmare panic beginning to press on her, trying to pry its way into her mind.

Kylo opened one arm in silent invitation. She bit her lip and eyed the hassash. It cocked its head, gave a questioning mew and climbed off him, folding itself into a bundle in the straw on his far side.

The dark worried at her like a sandstorm, trying to wear away reason. Rey pushed back against it, gritted her teeth and walked over to him, settled herself against his side. He curved his arm around her.

“Rey,” he said. “If I try to take—”

“You didn’t _take_ anything last night,” she said fiercely. “You think I—”

“I wanted to,” he interrupted. “With the dark side so strong, it’s hard—” He swallowed.

The air seemed suddenly thin again. “What?”

His arm suddenly clamped around her, pinning her to his side.

“That’s what.” His voice by her ear was dark, hungry. He relaxed his grip again.

She’d stiffened when he gripped her, her heart lurching into her throat. Now she thrust away and knelt in the straw. That edge of panic returned. Her thundering heartbeat didn’t help.

“Why?” she said. “Why do you have to make everything hard, Ben?”

“Because this _is_ hard. If you turned, if I did, it wouldn’t be. Since that isn’t happening, you need to know what you’re dealing with,” he said calmly. Calm wasn’t what she felt through the bond.

 _Since that isn’t happening_. There it was. He had no intention of turning away from the dark.

She narrowed her eyes, anger blazing through her. “You’re forgetting again. I’m a scavenger. Nothing in my life was ever safe. I’m used to it.”

“I’m not forgetting. I know you’re capable of protecting yourself. You’ve proven it many times.” His jaw knotted. “But you shouldn’t have to be on guard against your _partner_.”

The anger evaporated. _Oh_.

The hassash rocked on its limbs, keening unhappily. Keeping one eye on it, she edged within Kylo’s reach again.

“Verrannallu said the dark side calls to you?”

He nodded once, his mouth in that tight, unhappy line again.

“Would it help to think of something else?”

Interest warred with wariness on his face. “What do you have in mind?”

She picked at the straw, feeling foolish. “I could tell you stories.”

“Stories.” Almost, almost he smiled. He ducked his head. “No one’s told me stories in a long time.”

That almost-smile completely disarmed her. She eased down by him. His arm came around her again, but there was nothing threatening in it.

 “I used to tell myself stories, but I don’t remember anyone ever telling them to me.” She settled against him, searching for happy memories. There weren’t many.

“One time I found a holo-display in a star destroyer’s crew quarters,” she began. “I sat and played with it a while and finally got it to come on. The man in the holo wore an Imperial officer’s uniform. The woman he had his arm around had her hair braided on top of her head, with curls hanging down over her shoulders. She was beautiful. They held a little girl with pigtails on each side and one on top, like little fountains. She was laughing, looking up at the man, and he and the woman were smiling at the cam.

“I took it back to my shelter. I kept it a long time. Every night after I lay down, I looked at it and told myself it was me and my family, and we’d been on that destroyer before it crashed. We all got out in an escape pod, but we were separated and they’d been looking for me ever since.” She sighed. “Then I found out how long ago those ships crashed.”

Kylo was silent a long time. “Rey,” he finally said. “Bedtime stories are supposed to have a happy ending.”

“Oh,” she said. “I didn’t know that.” She thought again. “Okay, here’s one. There was one ship that had crashed in the Sinking Fields, so it had been buried a long time before it surfaced again. The central processing core was still intact, full of precious metals. It was a legend. Anyone who got to it would eat for the rest of their lives.

“One day I was running away from thugs and that wreck was the closest place to hide. I don’t remember what I’d done—something to make Unkar Plutt mad. They weren’t giving up, so I kept going deeper and deeper, wiggling into smaller and smaller spaces. It was pure accident…”

Kylo fell asleep first, tonight. No surprise, as much as he’d pushed himself today. Rey laid her head against his chest, listening to his heartbeat while the dark raged and slashed like a storm beyond them.

* * *

Kylo dreamt of Luke and the lightsaber again. This time Rey wasn’t a witness. This time she _was_ him.

She felt the brush of the Force against his mind that had brought him out of a deep sleep. The sound of a lightsaber igniting came as if in a dream, then a green glow pressed against his eyelids. He opened his eyes, sleepy and confused.

 _Wake up_ , she heard Kylo command himself. _Wake up!_

The dream continued, relentless.

His uncle stood over him, the glow lighting his twisted features.

Fear burst through Ben. Fear—and the Force. It ripped through him, almost with a will of its own. His hands came up. His lightsaber flew into one. Without his thought, it brought up his weapon in a parry as the fingers of his other hand curled, pulling at the roof.

“ _Ben, no!_ ” Luke shouted, then the timbers of the little house crashed down around him.

 _No_ , Kylo’s mind whispered. _Stop this. Stop dreaming this_.

Ben scrambled up and out, wreckage slipping and stabbing under his bare feet. He couldn’t catch his breath. He shook so hard he could barely hold his weapon, the night air cold through his nightshirt. His mind spun, blank with shock and terror and the scream of one question: _Why? Why? Why?_

People were running toward him—the other students. Lightsabers slashed the night like comet trails under the glowing sky. Shouts came— “What happened?” “Where’s Master Skywalker?” “Is it an attack?”

Ben stood and shook, his lightsaber juddering against the dark. “He was going to kill me,” he panted. “He was going to kill me!”

His voice came out high and wild, nothing he recognized. Rage began to shoulder fear aside.

Dead silence fell for the space of three breaths. The other students were blue- or green-edged shadows moving through the dark, wide eyes gleaming in the glow of their lightsabers, mouths gaping open.

Shouting started again, a jumble of panicked questions.

“Master Skywalker!” Ledel’s voice. “Master Skywalker!” he shouted again, then frantically, “Where is he?”

“He’s not here.” That was Raich. The fear in his voice made it hard to recognize, but Ben knew the hunch of those shoulders.

A girl screamed, “Look! Ben’s house! He must’ve been there. He’s killed him!”

“He tried to kill me!” Ben screamed again then lightsabers were coming at him from every side.

He slashed and parried, driven like a hunted animal, snarling like one. One attacker went down. Someone to his left gave a savage scream where two other shadows clashed. The whine and crackle of straining lightsabers came from behind him. He whirled to see two more students fighting. A blade hummed past his ear and shoulder, close enough to scorch. He caught the return stroke with a backhanded parry, ducked and slashed upward. The other’s lightsaber flew then there was the thud of a body hitting the ground.

He turned, turned again, crouched and ready for another attack. Others stood around him, dimly-lit shapes and shadows also in fighting crouches. His breath was loud and ragged in a stillness broken only by other panting breaths and the hum of lightsabers.

Ben backed until he could see all of them, his weapon ready. Six. Six more he’d have to take—

“Ben?” The voice was high and shaking. Jaena?

“Come on, then!” Ben snarled, fury and fear burning through him. He raised his lightsaber. “Well? Come on!”

“Hey, Ben.” That was Barr’s voice, trying to sound soothing. It shook too much for that. “We’re not coming after you.”

One of the girls was crying. One of the fellows, too, by the sound of it.

Another figure slowly approached, lightsaber lowered, one hand upraised and open. Embry. “What happened?”

Ben didn’t lower his weapon. “I woke up.” His teeth wanted to chatter. He clenched his jaw to keep them still. “He was standing over me. Luke. With his lightsaber.” He saw it again, his uncle, the lightsaber—He slashed his free hand through the air to drive away the vision. “He was going to kill me!”

“No,” Jaena wailed. “No, no, no…” over and over.

Lio’s eyes were wide in his long face, horrified. “Maybe you were dreaming…”

He didn’t sound like he believed it. He had eyes and ears like everyone else. Luke wasn’t just harder on Ben than anyone else—there was something about him that Luke really, really didn’t like. No matter how much he tried to hide it behind the Great Jedi Master guise.

“Why?” Embry said. “Did you—”

“I didn’t do anything! _I was asleep!_ ” Ben shouted, clenching his fists. He swept his hand in a violent gesture. Two nearby huts blew apart. Timbers tumbled down through the clearing like so much kindling. Like kindling, they burst into flames. The other students shrank back, lightsabers going up defensively.

The action, maybe the Force, cleared his mind. He straightened, lowered his weapon. He felt the others’ fear beating at him. Still breathing hard, still shaking, he looked around.

Bodies lay sprawled on the turf. Dead. Not arranged-in-a-casket dead, but slashed and dismembered and even more horrible because they were people he knew who’d been alive just minutes ago.

Raich, who would’ve bullied him if he hadn’t been afraid of him. Shirra and Haggen, who called him Prince Skywalker. Char, who hid his envy behind politeness so exquisitely correct it became mockery. Danik and Ledel. People he didn’t like, some he probably even hated, but he hadn’t wanted them _dead_.

The others had shut down their lightsabers. Ben watched them, ready, but they only stood looking around, same as he did. He deactivated his weapon, too, but kept it in hand.

Jaena was crying openly. “What do we do? My mother— My sister— What do I tell them?”

“We aren’t supposed to have family,” Ben said harshly. “They took all that away from us, remember?” He breathed hard, choking on rage. “We aren’t supposed to have _anyone_.”

“They’ll kill us,” Arran said. “They won’t even listen to us. They’ll say we just slaughtered everyone. There’s nowhere we can go. We’re dead.”

Ben rubbed the back of his hand across his face. It came away wet, and to his horror, he realized he was crying. He clenched his jaw, shuddering with the effort to get himself under control.

“There might be—” His voice cracked. He stopped, cleared his throat. “I might know somewhere we can go.”

Silence, except for the sound of Jaena’s crying.

“Where?” Lio said.

That stopped him. “I don’t know,” Ben admitted. “Not yet. I will.”

“Someplace your father knows?” Embry said. “What’re you going to tell him? ‘Uncle Luke tried to murder me so I killed him and now I’m running for my life’?”

“Not my father,” Ben said. He was feeling better, stronger, no longer like the world was ending. “Someone else. Someone we can trust. His name is Snoke—”

Rey woke. Her eyes opened to the dark barn. Under her cheek, Kylo’s chest rose and fell unevenly, almost shuddering. She lay still, trying to tell if he was awake.

Awake or asleep, she could feel his pain radiating through the bond, even through the Force.

He wouldn’t want to know she’d shared that dream. Not after what they’d talked about in the afternoon. She _knew_ he wouldn’t.

She closed her eyes again. Slowly, as if she was still asleep, she shifted, sliding one arm around his chest, tucking the other behind his neck. Kylo didn’t move. The pain was still there. Keeping her breathing slow and even, her eyes closed, she hugged him tight.

After a long time, his arm tightened around her and his hand came up to cup her head.

* * *

Two masked and black-cloaked figures stood in the middle of the battlefield, gazing down at their fallen brethren. Daylight and the parent planet’s blue glow combined to throw the scene and the abandoned ships nearby into double-shadowed, two-toned relief. Small scavengers skritched angrily from the rocks where they’d taken cover after having been disturbed from their feeding.

“Idiots.” Embern Ren picked up a fallen lightsaber. “Did they really think they could take him?”

“Four of them?” Magar Ren said. “They might’ve had a chance.”

Embern gestured at the bodies. “I only see three.”

“And one crater,” Magar said, tilting his chin at the blackened pit at the base of a nearby hillside. “Four.”

“They should’ve known better than to let Jaenk wind them up to it,” Embern said. “We all knew how much she hated him.” He picked up Barrath’s lightsaber, tossed it thoughtfully in his hand as he swept the ground with his gaze. “Do you see her weapon?”

“No.” Magar nodded at the lightsabers Embern held. “Strange that Kylo didn’t take those.”

Embern closed his eyes. Raising a hand, he reached out through the Force then opened his eyes again, frowning. “Do you feel this? Light side power was used here.”

Magar duplicated the action. “Just as much dark side energy. Kylo can access both…” He trailed off uncertainly.

“Not like this. This was _strong_. If he was using the light side, he put all his power into it.” Embern turned away, following a trail of crushed grass. “Magar. Look at this.”

After a moment, the other Knight approached and looked down. “Blood.”

Both men followed the rusty streaks through the grass, not mere spots, but an actual trail.

“That wasn’t a lightsaber wound,” Embern said.

Magar looked back at the crater. “Ardred. He shot him. An ambush. The others must’ve already been dead—or they would’ve finished him.”

Embern followed the splashes of blood and crushed grass to the imprints in the ground of a ship’s landing gear. He stopped and looked up as if watching the ship take off. “He was bleeding out.”

Magar looked back in the direction they’d come, frowning. “Look how far he was from his ship. With an injury this bad, Ardred should’ve finished him off before he reached it.”

“Someone was with him. Someone helped him,” Embern said with absolute certainty. He turned to look at Magar, his eyes wide under his mask. “A light-side-user.”

Magar snorted, then stared. “Skywalker? Trying to turn him back to the light?”

“No. It doesn’t feel like him.” Embern shook and shook his head as if trying to dislodge some unpleasant thought. “The girl. The rebel girl who’s supposed to be with him.”

Magar rocked back. “She’s a _Jedi?_ How? From _where?”_

“Skywalker’s been gone a long time. Plenty of time to train someone.”

“Maybe, Embern, but that doesn’t explain why she’d be with Kylo. Why she’d help him.”

“It does explain a lot about Snoke’s death, though. And all his guards.”

“No,” Magar said, flat with disbelief.

The two men stared at one another, worry and confusion shivering through the Force between them.

 “Kylo…and a Jedi girl as powerful as Skywalker—”

“More powerful,” Embern said. “As strong as Kylo.”

“How did they come to have a bounty on their heads, then? They should’ve been able to flatten everything in sight. _What the kriffing hell is going on?”_

“I don’t know,” Embern said. “But we’d better find out before we decide whose side we’re on.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The idea that Ben cold-bloodedly slaughtered the other students at Luke's school never worked for me. If Ben woke up in the middle of the night to murder, he'd be in no state of mind to separate who's with him from who's against him. He'd only be focused on staying alive. Since the rest of the students were also woken up in the middle of the night, with no idea what was going on, I really believe the situation would've just been total chaos and confusion. I don't think Ben ever made an actual decision to turn to the dark-- he did so out of desperation, having nowhere else to turn.


	18. Lessons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Rey has a lesson and Kylo discovers something Rey would really rather he didn't.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys, I have to tell you how much your wonderful comments mean to me. It makes me so happy when I open up my inbox and find one. Thank you for your support, and thank you for reading!

Instinct told Rey to give Kylo space after his dream of the slaughter at Luke’s school. She knew how much it disturbed him. Having a witness around afterwards might not help.

The light was just greying, the time she’d get up on Jakku, before things had a chance to heat up. It had always been a peaceful time, with the landscape softened with shades of blue and grey and purple, when the world seemed open and welcoming, when anything and everything seemed possible.

She slipped out from under his arm as softly as possible. He made a noise of protest, his arm folding and fingers curving. The Force brushed her as if he’d tried to hold her, then faded. It spoke of how weak he still was, that her movement wouldn’t snap him awake. Or maybe he only let himself sleep more deeply because he relied on…his partner.

She knelt by him a moment longer, watching him, held by…something. Something like she’d felt in that hut in Ahch-To, a yearning, a certain warmth—

And look how _that_ had turned out.

Standing quickly, she slipped out of the shelter. She needed something to do.

Later, when Jaegar and Tam’s voices came from outside, Kylo did snap awake, instantly reaching out for her through the bond.

“Right here,” she called and brushed her hands together, greasy and dirty from her work on the speeder.

She made sure she stood at the shelter’s entrance, guarding Kylo, when father and son came in, then let the morning’s activities sweep her away.

When Tam, with his cheer and chatter, had finished distracting—or irritating—Kylo, she stepped back in.

“I have some more things to do—” she began.

“Stay here,” Kylo said in that quiet voice that meant he was asking, not commanding—no matter how commanding the words sounded. “Sit down.”

Curious, Rey settled in the straw opposite him.

He sat cross-legged, and he wasn’t using the Force this morning to keep himself upright. Not yet, anyway. Tam had found a shirt for him somewhere. It strained across his shoulders, tight enough to show the ridges of his bandages. The rolled-up sleeves probably disguised the fact that they were too short. Though he wore his black pants, he was barefooted.

“We’re going to have a lesson,” he said.

She perked up. “Okay.”

His gaze on her was intent enough to quell the excitement that was trying to bubble up in her.

“You need to learn how to close your mind,” he said. “You need to be able to defend yourself against what’s going on here.”

She thought of his warning last night. Defend against him? Or against the dark’s nightly assault. Or both?

“How do you know what to do with the Force?” he said.

She thought. “Watching you, I guess. I see something you did, and I try it.”

He nodded. “To start, I want you to try going into my mind. Don’t use the bond. Only your mind.”

Wetting her lips, she nodded. The flutter in her middle made it hard to center herself. She pushed the flutter down and leaned forward, staring into his eyes. He stared back, like a fighter about to engage. She reached out.

It was like pushing against a wall. A sort of _elastic_ wall. One that pushed back.

She took another breath, braced hands on knees and pushed harder. There was that little give, then another pushback.

“Stop,” he said.

Rey sat back and let out a breath. She felt like she’d been climbing dunes, not quite sore or tired yet, but feeling it.

He didn’t give any sign he’d been straining. “Try again. This time I won’t resist as strongly.”

She tried a different tack, not just a push, but a sudden shove. The give was a little more this time, then it pushed right back. If Kylo was expending any effort, it still didn’t show. Setting her teeth, she leaned in—

His resistance gave way and she found herself in his mind.

He was impressed and pleased. She was as strong as he was—he had to work to keep her out. He’d suspected as much, but the last time—

His mind closed again and she blinked back behind her own eyes.

The flutter was back. Luke hadn’t been at all pleased by her strength in his one, grudging lesson.

“Again,” he said. “I’ll resist even less this time. I don’t want you tiring yet. Watch what I’m doing as you push through.”

It was definitely easier this time. She concentrated on his defenses as she shouldered past them.

He closed himself off again. “What did you see?”

She sat back. “It’s like…like you’ve raised a shield that completely surrounds your mind. When I push, all your power goes to the place where I’m trying to get through, then backs off when I stop.”

“It saves strength. If you don’t have to actively resist, just be watchful and ready. What did you see as you pushed through?”

She gestured, searching for a way to explain. “You fold around me, so I can only go so deep.” She frowned, thinking. “Could you trap me that way? Close up behind me so I couldn’t go back?”

“Very good,” he said.

She could feel his approval through the bond. It startled her how much it warmed her.

“It takes strength, skill and practice to do that, though,” he went on. “Don’t try it unless you know you outmatch your opponent. You don’t want a more powerful mind enclosed in yours. It can easily destroy you.”

A flicker of emotion passed across his face. _Speaking from experience_ , she thought.

Had he done something like that with Snoke? She could imagine him trying, strong enough to believe he could succeed. Strong enough to think he could break away?

“There’s another method,” he said. “Again, and I’ll show you.”

This time when she breached his defenses, she found herself in a fractured landscape of images, memories, thoughts that continually shifted like an unstable dune. She scrambled, flailing, and backed out.

“That can be a strategy, too,” he said. “It throws your opponent off balance. Let him in, then use his moment of confusion to overcome him.”

She looked across at him. The wonder that swelled in her almost took her breath. _This was what I wanted. I wanted someone to teach me. And_ Kylo Ren _is the one who is_.

“Is that a dark side thing?” she said.

“Does it feel like it?”

She thought. “It feels like…” She held up her hands as if gripping an imaginary staff, thrusting and blocking. “Like learning to use a weapon.” She eyed him. “Is this a weapon?”

“Yes. But like any weapon, you can use it for attack, or defense.”

“But is it using the dark side?”

He met her gaze levelly. “It can be. Most people don’t welcome the intrusion.”

“Then are you—?”

“You’re forgetting what I told you.” He leaned forward. “You need to learn to close your mind. Now you’ll use what I showed you to try.”

She suddenly realized what he was going to do. Her stomach dropped. He must’ve felt it through the bond because he leaned back again.

“If you can close your mind to me, you can close it to anyone.” His posture, his hands on his knees were relaxed, like he was deliberately trying to be unthreatening. “I won’t reach for you. Tell me when you’re ready.”

Her heart hammered into her throat anyway. _Stop it, Rey_ , she told herself. _If it was anything like before, he wouldn’t_ warn _you_.

“I resisted you on Starkiller.” She was stalling. She knew she was.

“No, you didn’t. You pushed back and caught me by surprise. It isn’t the same thing.”

“Oh. Right.”

She swallowed hard, closed her eyes and concentrated on her breathing, her heartbeat, the calm she sensed from him through the bond. Accepting that gift of calm, letting it quiet the unthinking fear, she opened her eyes to find him watching her.

She built a shield of glowing blue light around her mind, thick and strong enough to resist a star destroyer’s onslaught. “Go ahead.”

She knew what to expect. Last time, she’d scrambled to escape, then when that didn’t work, struggled to push him away. This time, he crashed into her defenses with all his considerable strength. She gasped, rocking back as if at a physical blow. He didn’t back off but pushed harder. Gaze locked on his dark, burning one, she braced against him. His lips peeled back off his teeth. Her own jaw clenched. Her breathing picked up again. Her fingers dug into her knees as she leaned forward.

He retreated abruptly. The absence of pressure was almost dizzying. Rey let out a breath and eased back.

Kylo shoved hard the way she had, burst past her relaxed defenses and into her mind. She fought a moment’s panic, subdued it, then threw all her strength into thrusting him back out.

She could feel him in her mind. It was like the woods on Takodana, like the interrogation chair on Starkiller Base. The panic rose again, blinding—

_No_.  She scrambled to do what he’d shown her, to fill her thoughts with scraps and bits and broken shards of nothing. He was in there, and if he read her the way he had before—

_Don’t think it, don’t think it_ , she told herself, frantically trying to turn her thoughts to something, anything else.

He suddenly withdrew again. She rocked back, catching herself on her hands in the straw and breathing hard.

“ _Betrothed?”_ His eyes widened. “ _That_ was what that boy said to disturb you?”

She was burning. _Burning_. All the way from her armpits to the top of her head. She would’ve run away, if it wouldn’t be even more mortifying.

He looked utterly flummoxed. “Rey, don’t you know that was what I was—”

She held up a hand and he stopped. It didn’t silence his gaze, though, intense and speaking. If he looked at her like that for long, she’d vaporize.

He smiled. It was only for an instant, there and gone again, and he ducked his head to hide it. For that instant he was Ben, who she didn’t have to continually strive against with all her strength, who she could be comfortable with.

Maybe that was why things had been easier on Ahch-To. Because it was only talking. Not his overwhelming physical presence, none of that looming aura of dark power in him.

“We could pretend,” he said, very seriously. “If it would make all this easier.”

She still felt a flicker of amusement from him. No, amusement wasn’t quite the right word. Delight?

Kylo Ren might be amused, but delighted? Never. It threw her, so suddenly she mentally stumbled.

“Nothing about this is _easy_ ,” she grumbled.

“No,” he agreed. “Instinct. A lot to overcome.”

She blew out a breath. “Yes.”

He nodded and seemed to relax. That made things better, too, made him feel more _Ben Solo_ and less _Kylo Ren_.

“We haven’t killed each other yet,” he said. “We must be doing something right.”

She eyed him. “Ben, did you just make a _joke?_ ”

“I never joke.”

“You did!”

“Maybe I was only thinking about killing,” he said. “It’s been a near thing with that boy. You should’ve told me what he said when I asked.”

“Can we talk about something _else?”_

She could _feel_ him deciding whether to keep tormenting her. Strangely, that, too, felt very Ben Solo. She could imagine him with that kind of sly, underhanded humor, just a little like Han’s.

“Something like your gross, hugely foolish, potentially deadly mistake?” He grew serious again. “Never let down your guard when facing an enemy.”

“I thought we weren’t enemies,” she shot back.

“We are when you’re drilling. I’ll tell you when to disengage.”

“Sorry.” She settled in the straw again, trying for a contrite expression. She didn’t know why she kept wanting to smile instead.

* * *

Rey walked out into the coppery light of Jannessi’s sun feeling happier and more in control of her life since…well, since ever.

Right. On the run from the First Order with the one-time Supreme Leader who only happened to have kidnapped her twice, and she felt in control. She shook her head at herself.

Once more, the town was nearly deserted. The looks she got from the few people she saw weren’t friendly. She didn’t blame them. Since she and Kylo showed up, their lives had been turned upside down.

Another trip to the town dump provided scraps to put over Kylo’s screamingly conspicuous fighter, a few parts that should let her finish the speeder repairs and the makings of a new staff. She couldn’t _believe_ what these people threw away.

She stood on top of the Silencer, wind plucking at her lightsaber-shorn hair. The grasslands spread away in grey-green swells that rippled silver in the breeze.

_It won’t hurt to show some goodwill_ , she thought. _Show I’m not a complete troublesome burden_. Shading her eyes, Rey turned a slow circle. _If I was Nightkind_ , _where would I hide?_

 These people had been hunting Nightfolk forever—she wouldn’t be looking anyplace they hadn’t already checked. Still, her gaze travelled to a crease in the folds of land. She narrowed her eyes.

Touching Kylo’s lightsaber, she slid down the boarding ladder and headed down the knoll.

Like the desert landscape she knew so well, the grasslands’ lack of perspective distorted distance. The crease she’d seen from the Silencer looked small and far away. Her striding walk brought her to it sooner than she expected, and the crease proved to be deeper. She braced hands on knees and looked down into a dry watercourse, what they’d called a wadi on Jakku.

Rey skirted the top to a reasonable-looking descent then slithered down, stones and clods of dirt tumbling ahead of her. Tracks marked a flat, sandy bottom dotted with rocks and half-buried branches. No, she wasn’t the first to scout the wadi.

The air at the bottom was hot and still, smelling faintly of roots and damp sand. Her scuffing footsteps sounded overloud. The banks rose trench-like on each side, exposing wiry roots and rock. A bend in the watercourse limited the view ahead and behind to a few meters.

It was almost like home, crawling through the guts of a huge star destroyer, all hush and still air around her. She walked on, the banks gradually growing higher, now showing layers of stone. Slowly, almost unnoticeably, the stillness grew ominous. Her shoulders tingled with a sense of watching.

Rey stopped, listening. Nothing, not even the wind or insects, only her own breathing. She found her hand resting on the lightsaber’s hilt. Raising a shield around her mind the way Kylo had taught her, she continued on, moving more quietly now.

The shield didn’t work the way she thought. She couldn’t sense anything, couldn’t _feel_ anything. She abruptly realized she must’ve been using the Force all her life but had never known it. Using it to tell her where was safe and where wasn’t, when to move and when to stay still.

Walking along the bottom of that wash, she felt like she had a sack over her head. What was her shield doing to the bond? Would Kylo still be able to sense _her?_

From behind came a sound so faint she might’ve imagined it, a soft brush of something against sand. She turned, her skin prickling all over. A scent teased the edge of her perception. She only noticed it because it wasn’t dry, or dust, or old machinery. It smelled like dark places and stone.

She unclipped the lightsaber and ignited it. The blade and quillions spilled out, ragged and crackling. The distinct sound of an indrawn breath came, then movement where the wash bent around a curve.

Rey spun, spun again. Jannessi natives swarmed toward her along the floor of the wadi, ahead and behind, five, six of them. Relief washed over her. She started to lower the lightsaber then froze.

These people weren’t brown, but a sort of mottled grey. Their clothes were different, too, primitive, scraps of leather or skins. Every hair on Rey’s skin stood on end. _Nightfolk?_ They had to be. But it was daylight! Everyone had said—

She took the lightsaber in a two-handed grip and set her feet. Something felt different about the weapon this time, but she didn’t have time to identify what it was.

None of the Nightfolk spoke, but a touch skittered over the surface of her mental shield, picking at it. She pushed back. The approaching figures hesitated. They didn’t speak or gesture, but she had a sense of some communication going on between them.

The pressure on her shield increased. She concentrated, but the pressure wasn’t coming from just one place, one mind. She had to push out in every direction. Two Nightfolk darted close. She yelled and swung the lightsaber, driving them back.

She felt movement behind her, spun again. A knife flashed in her peripheral vision. She slashed the lightsaber toward it. Knife, hand, arm flew. Screeching, the wounded Night-one grabbed each of her wrists, fastened the remaining hand around her throat.

It was like someone tightened a clamp around her neck. Lights instantly spangled her vision. She wouldn’t strangle—her throat would be crushed, first.

She brought both feet up and slammed the Night-one in the midsection. Breath exploded out of it. Her vision was going dark and she felt rather than saw it fold over her feet. The lightsaber was a blurring slash of red, a hungry vibration. She felt it tilting in her hands. For a horrible instant, she thought she’d lose it, then she smelled the stink of burned flesh as one of the quillions slanted into the hand locked around her wrist.

The Night-one shrieked, its hand sprang open and the blade dipped downward, into its head. All three hands slid off her and it crumpled, twitching. Sucking in a rasping breath through her bruised throat, Rey spun in a circle, almost as if the lightsaber pulled her around. The tip scored the chest of one onrushing Night-one. Two more jumped back.

It wasn’t like Snoke’s throne room, where every movement felt practiced, smooth. The lightsaber felt like a live thing with a will of its own, unfamiliar. It _was_ unfamiliar. It was only familiar to Kylo, and Kylo wasn’t here.

The popping whine of a blaster firing came from behind. Adrenaline spiked through her in a cold rush. She whirled. Two more Nightfolk had rushed up behind her. They fell, one so close two of its outstretched hands skimmed down her body as it toppled.

Figures moved up high, at the top of the wadi’s bank.

“Behind you!” someone shouted.

Blaster bolts whizzed past her. She began to turn. A body rammed into her from behind, driving her down. Fire scored the back of her arm. She twisted, bringing the lightsaber around as she slammed a knee upward. She hit the ground hard. The Night-one fell, torso and legs on her, shoulders and arms beside her.

Rey was already rolling to her feet. Breath knocked out of her, she half-crouched, weapon ready.

Janessi and humans were running toward her along the wadi’s bed. Two more people slid down the near-vertical banks. Still bent over, she finally got her breath with a whoop and backed until the opposite bank was at her back.

A human man came toward her, one hand outstretched, his blaster pointed skyward. “Rey? It’s Rey, right? It’s all right.”

His eyes were wide. Scared? He looked scared. Still holding out one hand, he slowly lowered the blaster. It took him three tries to find the holster.

Two Jannessi men moved past him, flanking her protectively as they scanned up and down the wadi. One held a blaster, the other a wickedly curved knife.

“No more,” said the one with the knife. “Dead or fled back to their lair.”

Rey let her gaze flick to the bodies on the churned sand. Kylo’s dream of the Jedi temple flashed in her mind, the slashed and dismembered bodies. Movement made her eyes jerk up again.

Verrannallu waded through the slaughter toward her. “Put that thing away, girl. You’re scaring everyone.”

Rey realized she still held Kylo’s spitting lightsaber upraised in both hands. She looked around, saw only humans and Brightfolk. Verrannallu stopped directly in front of her and crossed all four arms. A few others stood behind the healer, variously armed with blasters, knives, and something that looked like a cross between a spear and narrow-bladed shovel.

Rey’s arms shook. Something hot dripped down the back of one. Twisting to look, she found her sleeve fluttering and stained red. She looked around at the staring faces once more, Jannessi and human, and deactivated the lightsaber. Tension went out of everyone.

Verrannallu made an impatient gesture at the lightsaber. After another hesitation, Rey clipped it back on her belt. The others moved to the Nightfolk’s bodies, bending to examine them.

The healer came close, checked Rey’s arm, tipped her head back and looked at her throat. “That will make an ugly bruise,” she said, letting Rey’s chin go. “You’re lucky it wasn’t worse. Girl, _what_ were you trying to do?”

“I was looking for Nightfolk,” Rey’s voice was rough from the throttling. “I thought they weren’t supposed to be out during the day!” she added defensively.

“You blaze like a floodlight, girl. Give them the chance, they’ll come for you anytime.”

“The Nightfolk hunt whenever they think they can catch prey,” said the human with the blaster. “Brightfolk can feel them near. Us humans have to make sure we don’t get caught out alone.”

So much for closing her mind. If she hadn’t, _she_ would’ve sensed them.

“These weren’t trying to prey on her,” Verrannallu said. She flicked her fingers at Rey’s wounds. “They were trying to kill her.”

Rey went still. “The way Brightfolk wanted to kill Kylo?” she said slowly.

Verrannallu made a disgusted noise. “With the Nightfolk, who knows? Likely, would be my guess.” She turned to the others. “An opening to their lair must be near. See if you can find it.” To Rey, she said, “Come with me. I’ll see to that slash.”

Rey nodded, coming down off the adrenaline high. She was beginning to feel the cut, a bad combination of ache and burn. She hoped it had gotten only skin, not muscle. Her throat—ugh. Even swallowing hurt.

“That was well done, girl,” Verrannallu said quietly. “Most humans alone wouldn’t kill one Night-one, let alone two. You must fight like a bleddath. Just don’t,” she said sharply, “try it again. Not even Brightfolk hunt alone.”

Rey hunched her shoulders. “Everyone _said_ they don’t come out during the day.”


	19. Consequences

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Kylo learns of Rey's adventures with the Nightfolk and is Very Unhappy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **KYLO REN ALERT:** Kylo/Ben goes all Kylo Ren in this chapter. BE WARNED!

The first thing Kylo noticed when Rey came in was the bandage that wrapped her entire upper arm.

He pushed to his feet. “What happened?”

The farmer and his son came in with their beasts, a wave of noise and smell and dust.

“She found some Nightfolk!” the boy said, so excited he was practically bouncing on his feet. “Killed two with that big red sword of hers!”

Rey dropped the armful of junk she carried in the straw. “The Janessi killed the rest.” she said with an air giving credit where credit was due.

Her voice rasped. Kylo stepped closer, studying her more carefully. A bruise banded her throat just under her jaw all the way around, disappearing under her hair. He went still.

“You… _found_ Nightfolk,” he said slowly.

“Down in Trewallan Wash,” the boy put in. “That close!”

“It only seemed fair,” she explained. “Since everyone else was hunting them.”

The rest of what they’d said registered: _Two_ , and _the rest_. As in, at least four. Maybe more.

No. She couldn’t be that reckless. “You hunted them with the healer? Or with these two?”

“Not with me and Da,” the boy said. “We was way out by the bluffs. Didn’t hear about what-all happened till we brought the mallikin in.”

“Verrannallu came after they were all dead,” Rey said. “Some men with blasters came while I was fighting them.”

“That was Rave Bannik and Deessenn Jinn,” the boy offered. “I heard ’em say they wouldn’t want to get on her bad side.”

Kylo gave the boy a forbidding look. Surprisingly enough, he got the hint, ducked his head and scuttled off to help his father.

“They’re the ones you hunted Nightfolk with?” he asked Rey.

She looked at him like he was being dense. “I didn’t hunt them with anybody. When I was covering up your ship, I saw a place I thought they might hide.” She shrugged. “I decided to look, too.”

He ran a hand down his face. Words were beyond him.

She looked puzzled. “What’s wrong?”

“Why didn’t you reach out to me through the bond?”

“I closed my mind.” She gave him an accusing look. “I couldn’t sense _anything_.”

“Are you insane?” His voice went up. “Do you have a death wish?”

“No.” Her eyes narrowed. “Nobody said they went out in daylight.”

“Then _what_ , exactly, were you hunting?”

At Kylo’s raised voice, the chatter between the boy and his father had abruptly stopped. There were only the creaking calls of the beasts, their snorts, the shuffle of their clawed feet in the straw.

One of Rey’s hands slowly curled into a fist. “I was hunting Nightfolk. Like everyone else here.”

The two farmers appeared behind her, eyes wide and worried.

Ignoring them, Kylo walked up to her. He reached down, jerked his lightsaber from her belt. “If you’re going to be _stupid_ , you don’t carry this.”

She didn’t flinch, didn’t step back. Pure rage blazed in her eyes, seared through the bond. She stood rigid, both fists clenched now, glaring up at him.

“These people saved your _life_ ,” she finally said, stabbing a finger back toward the two. “They’ve fed and sheltered us. Now their enemy is attacking them every night. Because of _us_. Because _we’re_ here. So if trying to help them makes me _stupid_ , then yeah. I’m stupid.”

She turned her back on him, gathered up her junk and stalked off. Kylo followed, brushing past their uncomfortable witnesses. He wouldn’t let her go off in a temper this time. He’d learned _that_ lesson on the _Finalizer_.

“What are you going to do now?” he said. “Something even more reckless?”

She shot him a venomous look, sat down cross-legged and began sorting through her pile of rubbish.

“Missy…” the man began uneasily.

“Don’t worry, Jaegar,” she said. “We haven’t killed each other yet.”

There was acid in the words, the same words that had brought them so close this morning.

The farmer hesitated, looking between them, then finally tipped his head toward the barn doors, silently urging the boy to follow. It took another threatening look from Kylo before he did.

The doors thumped shut. Rey pointedly turned away, but Kylo could still feel her seething.

“How did you survive so long?” he asked with real wonder.

Picking up this piece of trash and that, fitting them together, she ignored him. This was a new tactic. He was curious how long it would last.

“Did you do the same on Jakku? Go out looking for the greatest danger you could find?”

No response. She fitted a plasteel rod into a sleeve, then fit another sleeve onto the opposite end.

“Oh,” he said. “I forgot about the bombs. Yes, you do go out looking for the greatest danger you can find. Is it to prove to yourself you aren’t afraid? Or maybe only to distract yourself from your fear.”

She slid lengths of shaft into the sleeves, screwed a nut onto the end of the shaft, turned the assembly around and did the same on the other end.

“Now I understand why you were always so quick to try to kill me.” He thought of the first time the Force had shown her to him. Caught in a beam of low, golden sunlight, she sat blinking sleepily—until she laid eyes on him. “Shoot an unarmed man on sight. One who was sitting down, posing no threat.” He shook his head sadly. “Nothing to do with instinct. You’re _afraid_ of me.”

_That_ got a response—not outward, but he sensed a flash of temper from her. She hefted another rod, this one with a knurled protuberance on one end. Carefully angling it, she twisted it into the nut. She picked up a matching rod and screwed it into the other end.

“When you use the Force, you need to know your true motivations,” he said, repeating one of Luke’s lectures. “I can tell you for a fact, fear leads straight to the dark side. You won’t avoid it if you can’t admit you’re afraid.”

Rey laid her handiwork across her knees and ran her hands—blackened with dirt and oil—along it. Standing in one, smooth motion, she hefted it, testing the weight and balance. Setting her feet, she thrust, re-set her grip and thrust again.

_A staff_ , Kylo realized, and began watching critically. She wheeled around, sending the staff’s knurled tip flying with deadly speed. _Now_ _**this** is her preferred weapon_.

It gave her reach and power she wouldn’t otherwise have. He suddenly itched to have a practice blade in his hand. He’d like to see how she fared against an experienced fighter. Armed with that staff, he suspected she’d make a formidable opponent.

He’d seen her fight only once without the benefit of the bond—in Starkiller’s forest, before she’d accessed his own skill and experience with the lightsaber. Watching her now, he could see where those awkward jabs and slashes had come from—jabs that had brought her inside his guard. He could’ve easily killed her then, if he hadn’t been trying to simply disarm her. She must’ve felt like she was fighting with only half a weapon, half-crippled and dangerously close to her opponent.

Another thought came to him: _She fought the Nightfolk with my lightsaber_. Then one more: _Without the bond_.

_Dangerously close_. He saw again the bruise around her neck, the bandage on her arm. The fury that boiled up in him caught him by surprise.

Rey must’ve felt it—she glanced at him. Frowning, she turned away again just as quickly, squared off against a post as big around as her waist that supported the barn’s roof, and began sparring with it. The clack and thump of staff on post sounded over the animals’ sleepy noises.

He tried to watch her technique, analyze her strengths and weaknesses, but all he could see were the bruise, the bandage. He heard the way her breath rasped through her injured throat.

_Crazy, reckless, idiotic_. He wanted to walk over there, ignite his lightsaber and slash that staff back into pieces of junk. Show her just how vulnerable she was.

The hassash appeared on top of one of the mallik pens, raised itself on its six limbs and hissed at Rey. It was close—not quite within range of her staff, but close enough that when she spun on it, it gave an angry screech and leapt down from its perch.

“Keep away from me, you evil thing,” she snarled.

The hassash circled just out of range, gaving a hiss that sounded like metal rasping across metal. Rey circled, too, staff raised for a blow, keeping the creature in front of her.

An idea came to him. _Ah_ , he thought. _Much better than slashing her staff apart_.

Settling on the ground in front of the barn doors, Kylo reached for the Force.

The barn provided plenty of projectiles; he started with a lump of mallik dung as big around as his fist, sent it hurtling toward her. Rey spun. The staff connected. Bits of dung flew. The hassash took advantage of her distraction. With a chuffing noise, it leapt at her. She swept the staff low. It sprang straight up the air, the staff passing below it with a menacing _whoosh_.

He lobbed another missile at her, this one a nut from her junk pile. There was a sharp, metallic rap as she batted it aside. Kylo saw the opening. The hassash did, too, darting in from her off side. Its little hands seized her ankle then it sprang away again. Rey’s startled, disgusted shriek rose over its triumphant squeal.

“Point to the hassash,” Kylo said. “It bit you. You’re dead.”

Rey lifted her leg, frantically clawing at the hem of her trousers. When the unmarked skin of ankle and calf came into view, she cursed. The hassash, pumping up and down on its limbs, darted away as she came at it, staff swinging.

Kylo sent a clod of dirt at her from behind. It thumped her between the shoulder blades.

“Point to Kylo,” he said. “You fell for a feint.”

She gave a scream of fury and ran at him, this time.

He expected it. He put his hands down to push himself up, but the hassash beat him to the defense—it scampered between them, leapt onto the onrushing end of her staff and scuttled up it. Rey swung the staff wildly, trying to throw the creature off. Just before the hassash reached her grip, she flung the staff away.

“You’re disarmed,” Kylo said. “Match.”

She panted, her breaths a painful whistle. Sweat stuck wisps of hair to her face and neck. She glared at him, only not cursing him, he suspected, because she didn’t have the wind for it.

“Anger leads to the dark side, Rey,” he said.

She gave him an _I-hate-you_ look.

“So does hate.” He shook his head. “Look at you. Turning you wouldn’t even be a challenge.”

He could feel the dark rising again, though the hassash’s presence had already warned of it. The creature crouched on Rey’s staff where it lay on the ground, making a warbling noise like an echo of his own taunting—

He stopped, cocked his head. Rey was circling her staff, hand outstretched to snatch the end farthest from the hassash.

_No, you don’t_ , he thought, and the hassash sprang at her with a hiss.

Rey jumped back.

A sudden suspicion unfurled. He thought of the hassash moving away, allowing Rey to take back the staff. The creature gave a disappointed mew and backed off, dragging the staff with two hands before reluctantly releasing it.

_Verrannallu said it’s yours_ , he remembered Rey telling him. He thought of the way it had blocked her from the doors when the Nightfolk called to her, the way it had herded her toward him. The way it seemed compelled to touch her—

_It was responding to his wishes._

In his amazement, he forgot about taunting Rey. A dark-side creature of this world, _drawn_ to him. Did that mean he could—?

The anger he felt from Rey was shading into fear. She grabbed her staff off the ground and backed away. Her eyes darted, and her rasping breaths spoke more of increasing fear than of exertion. His back to the barn doors, he watched her.

She rocked on her feet and eyed the hassash, her hands white-knuckled on the staff. Released from Kylo’s intentions, it spidered across the floor and crouched by him, its three purple eyes on her. She maneuvered so she could watch them both then began sparring with the post again.

Again and again she thrust and slashed, whirled and blocked imaginary attacks. The more her fear rose, the fiercer her efforts. The sound of the staff hitting wood echoed through the barn. Gouges appeared on the post. In their pens, the mallikin shifted and snorted. Her breathing grew harsher and blood bloomed on the bandage that wrapped her arm.

Kylo stiffened. “Rey,” he said. “Stop.”

She whirled and slammed the post even harder.

“You’ve reopened your wound. That’s enough.”

She _did_ use aggression to mask her fear—he’d been right about that.

He got to his feet, ready to stop her by force, if necessary.

She closed her mind. He felt the moment she did. She disappeared from his perception—even from his sense of her through the bond. He’d given her a weapon he hadn’t intended—the ability to conceal herself from him. It was an uncomfortable realization.

She staggered back, leaning hard on the staff and breathing with those whistling gasps. If the bruise around her throat was any indication, even breathing had to be painful. Anger swept him again.

“Had enough?” he said.

She raised her head, glaring at him. “I don’t need your help.”

“Don’t you? Can you keep it up all night? I feel how strong the dark side is. Stronger than ever.”

He reached outward. The minds he’d sensed that first night were closer, more numerous, more intent. In his mind’s eye, he caught a glimpse of walls rising from a sea of grass, lights at the top creating an island of searing brightness. Somewhere at the center of that island lay a core of darkness, one that stretched outward in turn to reel in power.

 “I could do anything I wanted to now,” he said. “I don’t feel a hint of weakness. I know how much effort you’re expending to keep it out.”

The hassash scuttled a few steps toward her. _No_ , he thought at it, and it stopped.

Turning her back on him again, she walked to a corner between two pens and sank into the straw, her staff across her knees. Kylo slid down again, stretched out his legs and watched her.

She kept her shield up longer than he expected, especially physically exhausted as she was. He sensed it wavering finally, a flash through the bond, first, then she flickered in and out of his perception like a moon through scudding storm clouds. At last, her concentration collapsed. She drew up her knees and bent her head to them, gripping the staff like a barrier.

“Rey,” he said, chiding.

She ignored him.

He set his teeth. “If that’s what you want.”

He folded his arms and closed his eyes. The dark side surged around him, rich with power. Rey’s presence through the bond shivered with fear. He felt her try to raise her mental shield once, twice. It would hold for a moment, then crumple again. Her fear suddenly spiked.

Kylo jerked up his head and opened his eyes. She scrambled to her feet, staff held in a white-knuckled grip, breaths ragged and frantic. She spun, spun again, then with a scream, slashed the staff downward through the air at nothing.

He sat up straight. She whirled and jabbed and swung at some unseen assailant. The animals heaved to their feet in their pens, pawed the straw and whuffed, backing away. One of Rey’s wild slashes connected with a pen’s corner post. With a cry, she turned and hammered at it, again and again as if determined to reduce it to splinters. Her ragged hair flew. The wild madness that filled her face sent cold alarm flooding through him.

He jumped to his feet and surged toward her. “Rey, stop!”

She pounded the staff into another post. It split with a crack, and he could see the staff beginning to bend. The sounds she made were those of a trapped and terrified animal, snarling, gasping cries.

Kylo’s hand fell to his lightsaber. Deliberately, he released it, raised it toward her, palm out. “Rey,” he said calmly and reached through the bond.

He met nothing sane, only feral, unthinking fear. She wasn’t using aggression to distract herself this time. She was fighting for her life.

His heart raced. He couldn’t tell if it was his own fear, or an echo of hers. He pushed it away, drew up calm like a cloak. Hand still outstretched, he approached her. She whirled to face him, teeth bared, bent staff upraised.

“Come on,” he said softly. “That’s enough now. Give me the staff.”

He could draw his lightsaber. It would make short work of the staff. He could paralyze her with the Force, throw her into the wall behind her, go into her mind—

All the things her enemy would do.

He took another step. “It’s all right.”

Raising the staff, she lunged forward a step.

He didn’t flinch back. “You know I’m not your enemy.”

Every instinct would tell her he was, that he was part of what attacked her through the dark. He _was_ part of the dark.

He stepped forward again, laid a hand on her staff. He could feel the quiver of her muscles through it. She was like a flame whipped by storm winds, torn and harried, ready to blaze up in a conflagration.

“Good.” He slowly closed his hand around the staff, laid the other on hers where she gripped it. “It’s all right now.”

The physical touch should’ve offered her some protection, the way it had other nights. It didn’t. Not this time. She jerked back with a cry, trying to wrench the staff from his grasp.

Realization hit him. _They faced her today_. _They know what they’re up against now_.

This wasn’t some general assault, or a lure to draw her out. This was a targeted attack.

He could shield her mind. He’d have to go _into_ her mind to do it, though. If anything would push her over the edge, that would certainly be it.

With a resigned sigh, he pushed her into sleep. He caught her as she crumpled, the staff falling with a thump at his feet.

It was Takodana all over again. He only hoped when she woke they wouldn’t have to start from the beginning.

The way he’d taunted her earlier, he suspected they might.

 


	20. Rumors and Honor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the hounds catch the scent, and Kylo and Rey face the morning after a bad night.

Rumor is a curious thing. It might circulate furiously among interested parties only to drown in indifference when spread further afield. It might acquire legs that let it run a few days until some more interesting tidbit appears to push it aside. And sometimes, most rarely, it ignites some long-smoldering fear, spreading from mouth to ear across an entire planet, its spark to be carried outward on starships, there to leap from world to world.

Few would credit a story about the Force, of mystical powers of dark and light, good and evil. A tale of a strange alliance between a dark sorcerer and a warrior of light makes a good children’s story, but as rumor, it’s fit only for ridicule.

The tale of two fugitives who arrived in a small town at the hour between day and night might make the gossips buzz for a while—a man gravely wounded and the girl who forced a healer to treat him at knifepoint. If some insist that the knife was actually a wicked sword of red light, and that an ill-omened beast accompanied the man as his familiar, well, we all know how fantastic stories can become when spread from person to person.

But when more concrete elements are involved, the story takes on new gravity. Surely it’s worth noting that when the fugitives arrived, a siege began on the town sheltering them. That a mortal enemy long contained suddenly rose to terrorize not only a remote plains town, but the entire countryside as well.

To those who know who and what and just how dangerous that enemy is, the story becomes worrisome. If the enemy rose _there_ , they can rise _here_ just as easily. The mutters of rural folk prick the ears of their more cosmopolitan fellows, making them pass along fear like a contagion while they hurry home even more quickly at the day’s end.

To those more ignorant, traders and travelers and transients, such a tale requires one more ingredient to make it worth repeating. An ingredient that carries a dash of danger or excitement or simple outrageousness—

The ship the fugitives arrived in was a First Order starfighter.

Now _that_ becomes a tale that spreads faster and farther than the wildest imaginings of the town gossips.

* * *

Hux looked up from the data pad in his hands. He was dressed in a shimmering robe of midnight blue, his pale, freckled feet encased in embroidered slippers. The pungent smell of the liniment meant to soothe and heal his wounds wafted around him. The physicians attending him had withdrawn when an Intelligence Section senior attaché arrived. Hux’s personal attendant remained, a hulking shadow standing against the wall behind him.

“How reliable is this information?” Hux said.

“Questionable,” the attaché admitted. “But it’s the first decent lead we’ve had. We sent two operatives to the planet. Neither returned. In fact, communications ceased after several hours. We’re attempting to ascertain why. Drone scanners didn’t turn up any evidence of the ship itself. We request permission to deploy a force to investigate the report more thoroughly. Our considered opinion is that too many elements line up for this to be mere traders’ chatter.”

Hux tapped the data pad with a manicured nail, his lips turning down in displeasure. “The might of the entire First Order, and we’re reduced to chasing rumors.”

“With all due deference, Supreme Leader, it’s been our experience that rumors often yield promising returns.”

Hux gave a disgusted sigh. “And rumors, it seems, are what I must content myself with. Very well. Deploy your task force. Ensure it has adequate backup.” He set the pad aside and reclined once more on the treatment table. “If it is Ren, I don’t want him slipping away again.”

* * *

Rey woke with a gasp, wrenching upright. Every muscle screamed. Groaning, she sagged back, fleeces giving under her. Kylo sat on a bale nearby, elbows on knees, watching. He looked more somber than she’d seen in a while, the way he’d looked when they first started talking through the Force.

The slash down the back of her arm was throbbing. Her throat was one, massive ache from ear to ear. And her _hands_ —

She looked down at them. They were wrapped with torn strips of bandaging. She rolled onto one elbow and lifted one, peering at it.

“You injured your hands,” Kylo explained.

He’d spoken quietly, but she tensed and shrank back. “How? I don’t remember—”

“What do you remember?”

The Nightfolk in the wadi. Kylo taking away his lightsaber then taunting her. The hassash, then—

She rolled to her feet, ignoring every one of her body’s protests. “The Nightfolk—they were here!”

She backed away from Kylo, glancing around frantically for her staff. Spotting it at his feet, she reached for the Force. The staff flew into her hands. Pain shot all the way to her elbows, but she hung on.

“You were with them!” she said, still backing away. “You tried to take away my staff!”

He stood slowly but didn’t move toward her. “I did. You were hurting yourself. There were no Nightfolk here, Rey.”

“You think I don’t know what I saw? What did you do? Let them in so they could teach me a lesson?”

“I want you to see something,” he said. “In the barn.”

He took a step toward her. She raised her staff and backed a step, snatched a look over her shoulder for anyone behind her, then back at Kylo again. He paused as if to make sure she wouldn’t bolt, then took another step. He backed her out of the shelter that way, one slow step after another.

She should run. If he drew his lightsaber, her staff would be useless. She glanced toward the barn doors, calculating if she could make it outside before he caught up with her.

“Look at the animal pens,” he said. “To your right. I’ll stay where I am.”

Of course he could sense her intention through the bond. She tried to shut her mind to him, glancing to the left first. Nothing there but the wall, dim and harmless in the shadowless early light. She darted a look to the right, keeping him in her peripheral vision.

No Nightfolk. No bodies. Not even blood.

“The third pen over,” he said. “Look at the corner post.”

She meant only to glance again, but there, _there_ was something, the barn’s dirt floor scuffed and disturbed.

She sidled toward the pen, keeping Kylo in sight. The mallik inside snorted and backed away, raking its claws threateningly.

She looked up from the floor to the post. It was battered and splintered. Rey took a step closer, staring at it now, the deep indentations, the way the wood looked almost pulverized from the force of blows. She remembered one of the Nightfolk that just wouldn’t go down, no matter how many times she hit it…

Kylo had moved out of the shelter but didn’t approach any closer. “That post, too.” He nodded toward it.

The second post was cracked about an arm’s length from the top. She looked down at her staff. The solid metal rod was bent at one end.

“It’s good you weren’t using the Force at the time,” he said. “If you had been, you’d have to explain the destruction of our host’s barn and animals.”

She slowly turned to him, noticing for the first time the cool dirt under her feet—they were bare. She let one end of the staff fall to the ground. “I— there were no Nightfolk?”

“There were no Nightfolk. Only me,” he added with a hint of bitterness.

A bad thought occurred to her. She scanned up and down his body. “Did I hit…you?”

Something in his look lightened. “No.”

“Okay. Good.”

She gazed across at him in his too-small shirt, his hands loose at his sides. He looked back at her. She couldn’t read that look, couldn’t sense his state of mind even through the bond. He was guarded, subdued—a long way from his behavior last night.

She guessed she must look much the same. Things had gone very crosswise somehow, and she didn’t know what to do about it—or if she even wanted to do anything about it.

A sudden, powerful desire to see Finn and Chewie swept her. People who were steady and understandable. She raised a hand to rub her face, smelled blood and metal and lowered it again.

The sound of voices came from outside, indistinct but approaching. Verrannallu’s was clearest, and she didn’t sound happy. Rey tensed and looked toward the doors. Kylo did the same. She felt a shift in the Force. A sudden pressure pushed her attention away from the broken posts, and she knew what he’d done.

Verrannallu’s voice resolved into words. “…killed, I’ll go out and face them myself.”

Rey hesitated, then crossed to stand by Kylo. It wouldn’t help his Force persuasion if she was standing right in front of the damaged posts. She felt his startled attention then the barn doors swung open.

Jaegar stood, one hand on the door. Verrannallu peered past him. Letting out a relieved breath, she stepped inside. Her gaze flicked unerringly to the battered posts, then to Rey’s bandaged hands.

“Yes,” she said. “I can see it was a bad night. Not as bad as I expected.” She gestured to the shelter. “Let’s take a look at you.”

Jaegar’s gaze went between Rey and Kylo. Rey felt how she could have gravitated to his fatherly concern if she’d been on her own. How strange that all she felt now was gratitude.

“I’m almost finished fixing the speeder,” she said by way of setting his mind at ease. “I just have to check it out.”

His smile seemed somehow forced and genuine at the same time, as if he meant it, but smiling didn’t seem quite appropriate. “That’ll be a treat, missy. Thank you.”

Coming in behind him, Tam grinned and waggled his eyebrows in excited anticipation. The two went to their morning chores.

Verrannallu chivvied Rey and Kylo into the shelter. Rey tried not to be entertained by the sight of Kylo being chivvied. He must’ve felt it—he shot her a dark look then stood, arms folded and looking forbidding as she sat on the bale he had earlier. Her boots sat nearby, where he must’ve put them after he pulled them off her. She laid her staff down next to them.

The healer unwrapped her hands. Rey looked down at them in horror. The skin of her palms and fingers was torn and raw.

Verrannallu turned them this way and that. “What did you do?”

“I—” she began then faltered. What _had_ she done?

“She thought she was under attack,” Kylo said. “She was fighting for her life.”

The healer eyed him. “And you let her?”

His mouth tightened and his eyes blazed, but he didn’t answer.

“Mmm,” Verrannallu said. “This is your work?” She waved a blood-spotted strip of bandage she’d unwound from Rey’s hand.

Kylo’s chin dipped in a nod.

Rey thought of him cleaning and bandaging her hands while she slept, pulling off her boots. A lump in her throat and a tightness in her chest made it suddenly hard to breathe. She looked up and he met her eyes with another of those looks of his, one that said more than she could read.

Verrannallu unwound the bloodied bandage on Rey’s arm. She hissed as it parted company with the long slash down the back.

“The stitches I placed have torn,” was the healer’s only comment.

Rey made a face. _That_ , she remembered. Or rather, she remembered Kylo telling her she was bleeding again. Besides ignoring the fire running down her arm, she’d also ignored him.

Verrannallu dug salve out of her kit and slathered it on Rey’s arm. Rey bit her lip at the sting before the numbing took effect.

Kylo crouched down beside her, took her hand and gripped it hard. “Hold on. She’ll have to re-stitch you.”

Two of the healer’s hands were busy readying a needle. “Yes, I hear he impressed upon you the foolhardiness of your adventure yesterday.”

Rey hunched her shoulders and broke from Kylo’s gaze. “ _No one_ said Nightfolk could go out in the _daytime_.”

Verrannallu gave one of her dry chuckles. “You think they burst into flames in sunlight? Any night beast can go out during daylight. Just as a day creature can roam the night. They only have their preferences.”

Rey gave a squeak as the needle went in, squeezing hard on Kylo’s hand. After the second stitch, there was only an uncomfortable pulling sensation she could somehow feel in the pit of her stomach.

“So now you know,” Verrannallu said, plying her needle. “No hunting Nightfolk alone.”

“She won’t,” Kylo said, gripping harder, “be alone.”

Rey shot him an annoyed look “Now who’s being stupid?”

He met her look evenly. “Don’t hunt them, and neither of us will have to be stupid.”

“Things have gone beyond that now,” Verrannallu said. “You’ll have decisions to make soon.”

“Do I?” he said. “Maybe I only need to show the Nightfolk they’ve made an unfortunate enemy.”

A warning prickle brushed Rey’s neck.

Verrannallu leaned back, considering him. “I’ve done you an injustice,” she finally said. “I persuaded myself that your intentions toward her were bad.” She lifted a hand to indicate Rey. “I see I was wrong.”

“My intentions…” Rey felt his attention on her, but he didn’t look at her. “…are honorable.”

The bond was still muted—she couldn’t sense him clearly. But something about the way he said “honorable,” as if the word meant more than what it sounded like, raised a breath of goosebumps on her arms.

“Can honor walk the Night path?” Verrannallu said.

“I’ll find out,” he said.

* * *

 _This is ridiculous_ , Kylo thought. That Rey should reduce herself to wheedling the farmer for the use of the speeder _she_ had repaired. The speeder that had been collecting dust under a tarp for what looked like years, and probably would have for years more if not for her. Even worse, she was doing it out of consideration for _his_ weakness—she hadn’t needed the bike for her previous excursions.

He clenched his jaw to keep silent, pretending to concentrate on pulling on his boots. There was the usual exodus of animals for the day. The last lumbered out, leaving a coppery haze of dust and a trail of fresh dung.

Over by one wall, Rey bent over the speeder bike, apparently doing some last-minute tinkering. Her staff lay on the ground within reach. She straightened as he approached, wariness clear both on her face and through the bond. The fresh bandages on her hands were already creased and dirty. She must’ve noticed his glance—she put her hands behind her.

Kylo nodded at the bike. “It’ll be easier if I drive.”

He could see her parsing that for insult. Experimentally curling and uncurling her hands, she finally said, “It might be.”

He didn’t like this stilted caution, so unlike her. “What’s wrong?”

She looked like he’d set a trap in front of her. “You were mad at me.”

Her voice still rasped. He clenched his fists to keep from getting angry all over again. “Yes.”

“You—” She broke from his gaze, held her hands out in front of her. “You took care of my hands.”

“Yes.” What did one have to do with the other?

“You could’ve just…” She made a vague gesture.

Understanding glimmered—and disbelief. “Left you raving? Let you batter yourself to death? Is that what you think I’d do?”

“I don’t understand you!” she flared. “First you’re yelling and throwing things at me, then you do this.” She waved her bandaged hands.

“Rey, didn’t anyone ever care what happened to you? No,” he answered himself. “Of course they didn’t.”

“ _Finn_ cared,” she shot back. “ _Chewie_ cared.”

Those were not names designed to pacify him. “Maybe I do, too,” he growled.

She looked bewildered. “So you threw things at me?”

When she put it that way, her confusion made more sense. “I was trying to teach you something.”

“What were you trying to teach me? Because if you were, I don’t know what it was.”

“Caution. Judgement. Your limitations”

“While that—that _thing_ , that hassash was attacking me?”

“I _wanted_ to use my lightsaber.”

Her confusion turned to disgust. “Yeah. That’s what I thought.”

She turned to the speeder and swung a leg over, wincing as she did. He was amazed she could move at all this morning.

She flipped switches, touched the activator and the engine gurgled to life. It _blut-blut-blutted_ a moment then settled into a low, steady whine, rising off the ground as the repulsors powered up. She took another moment to test it. It lurched forward, backward, swung left and then right in place. Nodding once in satisfaction, she slid off to grab her staff. She’d made a sort of carry-strap for it out of strips of mallik fleece. With a practiced move and an unreadable glance at him, she flipped the staff over her shoulder and settled onto the rear seat.

Kylo swung on. The speeder dipped as the repulsors compensated for his weight. He tested the controls, too, intensely aware of Rey on the seat behind him. He swung the bike around abruptly and she pitched sideways.

“Hold on to me,” he said. “I don’t want you falling off.”

“I _won’t_ —” she began

He opened the throttle and shot through the barn doors. She clawed at his shirt, caught herself then slid her arms around him.

If he was aware of her before, it was like every nerve fired wherever she touched—down his back, around his middle, along the backs of his thighs. He was suddenly grateful she wasn’t sitting in front of him.

Why it should be so different from the nights he’d held her, he didn’t know. Maybe because he’d been too weak then. Or because he’d convinced himself that was for her protection. This—wasn’t.

He forced himself to pay attention to his surroundings—the small houses and rambling buildings, the crooked streets, a Jannessi child playing with a toy hover, the sweet smell of something baking that wafted from an open window, two old men turning to watch as they whizzed past.

 _I passed through all this a few days ago_. It was disturbing, not remembering any of it.

The street made a Y ahead. Rey pointed past his shoulder. “Take the left-hand branch.”

He swung onto the street she indicated. Behind a row of buildings, massive walls stretched away on either side, two huge, metal gates folded open. He thought of his vision last night through the Force. The walls, the island of light in a sea of grass. They zipped through the gates, the speeder’s engine echoing, and he looked back at walls the same as in his vision, the lights, quenched now, perched on top.

His Silencer rested on a little knoll within sight of the walls. He squinted at it. Even from this distance, he could see something was wrong…

Kylo clamped the throttle open, now barely noticing the clench of Rey’s arms around him, the press of her slim body against his back. The bike whined over the grass and up the knoll’s slope. He brought it to a banking stop.

The Silencer was artfully draped with trash. Shreds of fabric and bits of cord or cable held pieces of plastic, metal sheets, bottles and crushed boxes. Withered vegetation adorned the weapons vanes. Several lumpy bags sat on top of the cockpit, and lengths of bent and rusty metal leaned against the viewport. The wind merrily tossed empty bottles and boxes, tapping them against the ship’s hull.

Kylo stared in shock, then had to choke back an equally shocking impulse to laugh.

Rey had deconstructed his life more thoroughly than Snoke ever had. No, that wasn’t true. But what had taken Snoke years, she’d managed in a few days.

He made himself look more closely at what she’d done, see _camouflage_ , not _garbage_. “You left the solar panels exposed,” he said evenly.

“I don’t know the specs for your ship,” she explained. “I know a line TIE needs close to a thousand terajoules of capacity to keep systems in standby mode. I guess yours needs more, so I left as much of the upper surfaces exposed as I dared. I found some power cells and capacitors and scattered them around to try to baffle the energy signature.”

The scene in front of him was quickly shifting from an affront to clever improvisation. “That’s…impressive.” He turned his head to look at her. “You learned all this scavenging?

She hitched a shoulder and let him go, resting her hands on her knees. “I liked to study engineering manuals when I could find them. It helped to know what things were and how they could be used, so I knew what would feed me the longest.”

He ground his teeth, quickly shutting himself off. She already didn’t understand why he’d been angry about her injuries. She certainly wouldn’t understand why he was angry hearing how she’d been forced to live.

“Where did you confront the Nightfolk?” he said, pleased with the calmness of his voice.

“There’s a wadi over there.” She pointed. “You can see it from the top of the boarding ladder.”

* * *

They had to backtrack far up the drainage to find a place the speeder could negotiate to the bottom. The trip up the Silencer’s boarding ladder had shown how weak he still was—he was light-headed and out of breath by the top. Light-side healing and whatever the hassash had done apparently only went so far in recovering from blood loss.

The ceaseless wind fell as the banks rose, the whine of the speeder’s engine echoing between them. Kylo sent the bike curving around one bend after another, his senses open for kliks around.

He knew when they came to the place without Rey telling him to stop. The sand at the bottom of the drainage was churned. Blood splashed there, and there, and the Force shivered with recent conflict.

“No bodies,” Rey said at his shoulder. “I thought there’d be bodies.” He couldn’t tell if she was disappointed or relieved.

He thought about asking how many, then decided his uncertain temper wouldn’t take knowing. “Which direction did they come from?”

“Both. Upstream and down.”

“They were hunting you.”

She was suddenly very still behind him. “I—” She stopped, then said slowly, “It seems like it.”

He sensed around him again, stretching out as far as he could reach. He stiffened. “Hold on. Stay with me.”

Kylo opened the throttle and sent the bike speeding forward.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little Darth Darcy slipped in there. ;-)


	21. The Trap

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which a trap is laid, but the wrong quarry takes the bait.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for your lovely comments and kudos! They always make me so happy.

The wadi’s course dictated Kylo’s—he sent the bike howling around one bend after another. Finally, an opening appeared in the high, steep banks, the gash of an inlet that spilled rock and dead vegetation across the wadi’s flat bottom. Rey’s arms tightened around him as he swung into the slot. It grew narrower until the grasses clinging to its sides whipped his arms and legs, the sound of the bike’s engine deafening, then they shot up an eroded slope and out onto the grasslands.

Grass rolled away in all directions. He felt Rey reaching out through the Force, searching for what he’d sensed. Questions fluttered through her mind, but between the engine noise and the wind of their passage, she didn’t bother trying to voice them.

A darker splotch in the silvery ripples of grass appeared. The splotch gradually resolved into the hulking forms of mallikin.

He felt Rey’s dread and dismay.

“Tam and Jaegar…”

With the wind whipping past, he shouldn’t have been able to hear the words. The fact that he did told him how intense her fear was.

Kylo brought the bike to a halt at the edges of the herd. Rey immediately scrambled off, darting across the trampled grass. He killed the engine and followed her through the milling, moaning, frantically clicking mallikin to where Jaegar stood.

 A huge hole gaped in the ground like a blaster wound in the grasslands. A mallik calf lay at the bottom, bawling, covered in mud and clods of turf. A rope with a makeshift sling dangled beside it.

The farmer looked up as if realizing for the first time that they were there. His face was twisted with fear. “My boy’s down there!”

Kylo looked at Rey, not down into the sinkhole, where she was looking. He’d already seen the boy wasn’t in sight, and it took only a moment to sense where he was—some distance away.

Underground. Terrified. And if he could sense it, she could, too.

The father’s distress and desperation scraped along Kylo’s nerves.

“The ground just opened up,” Jaegar said, his words tumbling over each other. “The calf was on the edge and fell in. Tam climbed down. I turned away to adjust the ropes on the mallik.” He stopped, breathed hard. “When I turned back, he was gone.”

Kylo didn’t need the bond to know the grim resolve filling Rey as she quested outward through the Force. He already knew where this situation was going.

She looked up. “He’s there.”

Hope warred with horror in the father’s face. “Is he—?”

“Yes, he’s alive,” Rey said and crossed to the mallik that stood by the sinkhole, the end of the rope tied around its thick-furred neck.

“No,” the farmer said the same time Kylo did.

The man shot Kylo a resentful glance and moved to block Rey. “It’s my place to go get my boy. Stay here. Hold the beast. Don’t let him move forward.”

Rey opened her mouth to argue.

“The dark side of the Force did this—can you feel it?” Kylo said first. “You know what this is, Rey.”

“Of course I know what it is. I’m not _stupid_ ,” she threw at him. “Does it matter?”

He swiftly calculated all the ways he could stop her…and the likely aftermath.

“I’ll go,” he said.

“You can’t go.” She turned away to check the rope. “Can you rope-climb? I doubt it.”

“No,” he answered. “But you can.” He could use her skills through the bond, the way she’d used his.

She whipped back around. “No—”

He stared at her, enjoying the irony of her trying to protect _him_ from the Nightfolk, daring her to argue while time ticked past.

“The dark side will give me strength, but you’re right,” he said quickly, because she _would_ argue—or jump in without bothering. “I’ll need help. Jaegar will go with me.”

Her gaze flicked to the farmer and her face said _No_.

Kylo suddenly saw a way to work on her. “The Nightfolk won’t see me as an enemy any more than the Brightfolk do you. But if this is a trap, we’ll need our rear flank protected. You’ll stay here to guard it.”

The moment she hesitated seemed to stretch forever.

“Okay,” she finally said.

He kept himself from letting out a breath. “If you feel the Nightfolk—”

“I’ll close my mind.” She checked the rope one more time, nodded in satisfaction and slung her staff off her shoulder.

* * *

The Force felt _wrong_ , like a wound, twisting with darkness and fear and pain. She could sense Tam down there and wondered if this was how she felt to Kylo while the dark was assailing her—terrified out of her mind.

She looked up at him as he took the rope in his hands. He looked back down at her, his eyes turned a dark amber by the sunlight.

She felt him through the bond, that foundation-deep connection. Twice, she’d let his fighting skills flow through her, not realizing what she was doing.

Now she saw him adjust his hold on the rope, lean out over the sinkhole, his boots braced on the edge of crumbling dirt and exposed roots. She knew in her own arms and legs, feet and hands how it should feel, how she’d push off the edge, how she’d shift her weight—

And Kylo did it—not quite the way she would. It took her a moment to realize his greater weight and higher center of gravity would change things, then he was sliding down to the sinkhole’s bottom. Watching him descend, she realized it was deeper than she’d thought, maybe close to ten meters.

Everything in her screamed to go too—

No. No, he was right. He could handle the dark—the dark that had been persistently trying to destroy her.

Jaegar waited until Kylo had stepped back, then made his own way down. Rey, her fingers sunk in the grunting mallik’s pelt to keep it still, watched him descend. Below, Kylo scanned the walls of tumbled earth and rock behind the wailing mallik calf, where shadow fell deepest.

“I’ll go in,” he told Jaegar. “You wait here.”

 _In where?_ Rey thought, shading her eyes, trying to see through the shadows at the bottom.

He looked up at Rey, nodded once and…disappeared. The sinkhole must’ve opened into some kind of passage at the bottom.

She instantly reached out to him through the bond, felt caution, alertness, steel determination. She sensed, too, a thread of his attention back to her, like a finger lightly touching a pulse. She forced herself to extend her senses beyond him—wouldn’t it be pathetic if the Nightfolk crept up on her from behind because Kylo absorbed all her attention?

She sought outward. Minds met her senses, many of them, watching, waiting, focused on some purpose. A lure. _A trap_.

Rey jerked back and looked around her. The grasslands stretched away in gently rolling waves of grey-green and silver. Nowhere to hide except in the grass itself, but the minds she sensed weren’t there—they were deeper. Down there where Tam and Jaegar and Kylo were.

She touched the bond again but sensed nothing to alarm her. The shivering prickle of Tam’s terror abruptly winked out. Her breath stopped, and her hand clenched on her staff.

 _Oh, Tam. Oh, no_. She couldn’t stand this _waiting_ , knowing that Tam was— That he’d—

Kylo reappeared at the bottom of the sinkhole, Tam draped around his shoulders like a sack. Jaegar stiffened, and Rey felt the bolt of pure horror that shot through him.

Kylo’s voice reassuring Jaegar drifted up to her: “He’s only asleep now.”

Was that what he’d done to her last night, while she was trapped in visions of attacking Nightfolk? Put her to sleep the way he had on Takodana?

He and Jaegar arranged Tam’s limp body in the sling, tying him in while the calf moaned its own distress. Jaegar gripped the rope and planted his feet on either side of the sling, his free hand extended to keep the whole arrangement from bumping against the sinkhole’s raw sides. Reaching out to the mallik beside her, Rey urged it to back up. It gave a long, creaking call, dipped its heavy head and did.

It was an awkward scramble getting the unconscious boy up and over the lip of ground while Kylo waited at the bottom. Tam was muddy, his clothes torn, but seemed unhurt. Physically, anyway. Rey laid a hand on the side of his head and sensed only the blankness of unconsciousness.

“Take the speeder,” she told Jaegar. “If he’s anything like I was this morning, you’ll want him someplace safe when he wakes up.”

Jaegar nodded grimly. Two tracks marked the dirt on his face—tears. “I’ll take him to Verrannallu. The Brightfolk will need to— If they can—” He clenched his jaw and stopped talking.

The two of them got Tam arranged on the speeder in front of Jaegar.

Rey didn’t bother watching the speeder go, just turned to the mallik to urge it back to the sinkhole’s edge so Kylo could climb up. She looked down.

He was gone.

“ _Ben!_ ” she screamed.

Nothing. No voice, no reply, only the forlorn cries of the mallik calf at the bottom.

Cold terror flooded her. Ignoring the frantic pounding of her heart, the sudden chill in her arms and legs, she reached for the bond.

He wasn’t there.

* * *

Waiting at the bottom of the sinkhole, Kylo kept his senses trained outward. As a trap, it was so obvious he was surprised any intelligent being would expect it to work. Except if they’d had any insight at all into Rey’s mind, the Nightfolk would’ve _known_ it would work—if not for him.

And there they were, those hungry minds just beyond where he’d found the boy frothing and gibbering, not all that different from Rey last night. He sensed her worry and purpose as she moved about above. He sent calm and his own sense of purpose back to her, turned back to the gap in the earth he’d just come through and stepped in.

Daylight filtered in a short distance, his shadow fading into the shadow beyond the light’s reach. He felt those minds touch his, welcoming.

 _Yes, welcome me_ , he thought with grim satisfaction and ignited his lightsaber.

He strode on, the red glow of his lightsaber eating away at the darkness ahead. He drew on the dark side for strength, brushing aside his dragging fatigue and lightheadedness. He caught a glimpse of movement, the whisper of soft footfalls, the gleam of what might have been eyes. They continued to retreat, staying just beyond the faintest edges of light. Luring him? Maybe.

Darkness wrapped him like a blanket, familiar and calming. He sensed back along the bond. It seemed strangely…quiet. He hesitated, but didn’t feel anything that said Rey might be in danger. If she sensed the Nightfolk, which she must, she might be shielding her mind.

He shuttered his thoughts, the way he’d learned to do with Snoke. Not shielding them completely—that would’ve aroused suspicion then—but leaving the surface glittering clear, while his depths remained in shadow.

 _Come, brother, come_ , a voice whispered into his mind. _We will protect you_.

He tightened his grip on the lightsaber and came on. The tunnel he was in narrow, little wider and barely taller than he was, with no side passages. It would hamper his swing, but no one could come at him from the side or from behind.

The daylight had completely failed now, leaving nothing but the red light from his weapon flickering on the raw, rocky walls. The ragged hum echoed. Rey seemed very far away, a bright, tiny star on his horizon.

 _Yes, come_.

There was more than one voice now. Many. As many, he realized, as the minds he sensed.

The Nightfolk were telepaths. _That_ was how they influenced Rey, driving her to terror. Not the dark side of the Force. He should’ve known. He was surprised how much relief he felt at the realization.

 _It’s safe in the dark_ , the voices said. _You’ve been bound_. _Come, we will free you_.

He wondered if the bond they sensed was Snoke’s. He should’ve severed it a long time ago. Snoke had trickled fear and doubt and pain into his soul as long as he could remember: _Your own mother and father fear you. The other children think you a freak. No one wants you. You belong nowhere._

 _We will make you strong again,_ the voices said.

Kylo stopped, his lightsaber humming and crackling in his hand. The red light reflected in eyes. Jannessi faces ranged around him, their hands open and weaponless, unthreatening.

Nightfolk. The people who’d threatened Rey. Who’d tried to kill her…

Just as the Brightfolk had come to kill him.

He calculated, breathing slowly to calm the rage beginning to boil. He wanted to kill them—but he couldn’t kill half a planet’s population. Well, he _could_ , but not with his current resources. He needed to keep these people away from Rey, make sure they understood the consequences if they tried to harm her.

He sent her reassurance and intent through their bond. As long as she didn’t sense danger, he had to trust her survivor’s instincts to keep her away.

* * *

Rey crouched on the edge of the pit, one hand clenched on the rope. Her breath whistled through her bruised throat, raw from screaming Ben’s name. Her heart beat so hard her chest hurt. Pinpricks of light sparked across her vision.

The bond didn’t tell her anything. Kylo was alive, but that was all she knew.

 _Think, Rey_. _Breathe. Reach out_. It was hard, hard with panic screaming through her.

She breathed. She reached out. There was… _something_ …there. Minds. A lot of them, moving underground. One of them felt like Kylo, a spark of familiar darkness somehow brighter than the darkness around it.

Rey opened her eyes. _The Nightfolk won’t hurt him. Will they? He’s one of them_ …

 _Think_ , she told herself again. If she’d gone into town among the Brightfolk and disappeared, would Kylo come after her?

Yes. He would. Even weak, even with them wanting to kill him, she knew he would.

She stood. The mallik calf only cried intermittently now, raising its nose from the clods of dirt between its splayed front legs. Reaching for the Force, Rey gently grasped and lifted it.

It might’ve seemed only a distraction, but she meant the action as an offering, a token of goodwill, restitution and repayment to the people who’d taken them in. Finding itself floating in midair, the calf bawled in earnest again, paddling its six legs. She lowered it to the grass. The mallikin gathered around it, clicking and crooning, two of them licking its soft fur. Rey untied the roped animal and coiled the rope on the ground.

She slung her staff to her shoulder. One hand outstretched, she used the Force to cushion her jump to the bottom of the sinkhole.

A jagged crack split the earth, leading underground. Rey took a long breath, unslung her staff and went in. The light soon failed .

She slowed. Once when she she’d been scavenging, her headlamp had gone out. She remembered the darkness that pressed from every side, suffocating. The panic that nearly overwhelmed her with the certain knowledge that she’d fumble, lost, in the ship’s guts until she died. How angry she’d been, because she’d die when she never was supposed to’ve been abandoned on Jakku in the first place.

Focusing on the anger instead of panic, she’d sworn she _wasn’t_ going be lost, and she _wasn’t_ going to die, no matter how far she had to crawl in the dark. Then it was like the darkness had just…faded, and she could tell where to go.

Rey sensed through the Force. The darkness here faded the way it had however-many years ago on Jakku. She couldn’t see, but she was aware of the rough, rocky walls narrowing until they met overhead, the uneven floor. The smell of earth and stone grew sharper, as did the echoes of her scraping, sliding footsteps. The tunnel wound ahead, shivering with the remnants of Tam’s fear, vibrating with Kylo’s passage.

She reached out again but could sense only his simple presence through the bond—nothing more.

 _Wrong, wrong_ , she thought, straining ahead for him. Had he shielded his mind against the Nightfolk? She hadn’t been able to sense him when she’d raised her own shields in the wadi.

But—why would he? Unless they’d attacked _him_ , too. He was still weak—she’d seen his slight stagger when he came down the fighter’s boarding ladder earlier. Enough of them could’ve overwhelmed him and dragged him off.

Through the Force, the minds ahead grew closer—so many! Kylo was there. Surrounded.

She tightened her grip on the staff, her lacerated hands stabbing with pain. She’d fought imaginary Nightfolk last night while they tore at her mind. She could do it again. But this time, when she hit one it would count.

* * *

A ripple went through the Force. As if swayed by that ripple, the Nightfolk turned. Kylo reached for whatever had caused it, then the dark side swelled. Power and strength washed over and through him.

 _Now!_ their voices whispered in his mind. _Now it comes. Now it will end!_

He sensed their hunger and anticipation, and the same swelled in him.

 _We will feed. You will feed_ , they said _. Then you will be strong. You will be free_.

He raised his head, letting the dark side fill and buoy him. Images formed in his mind’s eye of his enemies laid waste: Snoke slashed in half, the shock on his face as he realized he was already dead and only waiting for the fact of it to catch up. His uncle cowering under his raised lightsaber, the red terror of his blade reflecting in his eyes as green had once filled Kylo’s. Hux screaming as Kylo used the Force to break every bone in his body…one…by…one.

No one would withstand him. No one would ever threaten or humiliate him again. He’d take what was his and the galaxy would be glad to give it.

The present returned, a dark cavern that stretched away into echoing distance. Kylo strode forward and the Nightfolk parted ahead of him, falling in to fan out behind him. The Force rippled again, the bow wave of a questing power.

He turned to face the tunnel he’d come through, unable to sense anything but that surge of power. He tightened his grip on his lightsaber.

Her staff ready in her hands, Rey stepped through. Her power reached through the Force to encompass the cave and everyone in it.

Kylo went cold. “Get out of here, Rey!” he shouted at her. “Now!”

She squinted, shielding her eyes from the blaze of his lightsaber. “Ben?”

Why hadn’t he—why _couldn’t_ he sense her? There was only the pulse of her power through the Force, then even that disappeared as she snapped up her mental shields.

The Night-one beside him turned to him, grinning with a mouth full of sharp teeth. _This Bright-one will hurt you no more_.

The Nightfolk swarmed past him, a tide of tall, many-armed bodies and dark ropes of trailing hair. He felt their attention narrow on her, felt them bring the dark side to focus on her like a laser. With a cry, she brought up her staff, her face going stark with terror.

“No!” He was moving before even deciding to, running toward her as she stumbled backward.

 _Look!_ Nightfolk whispered in his mind. _Look, how tight the binding! End it! End it!_

He wanted to lay about him with his lightsaber. A waste of time. There were too many of them. He knocked aside the Nightfolk ahead of him with the Force, stormed through the opening so abruptly cleared.

He reached her, seized her and pulled her to him, his lightsaber raised and threatening. Rey stood rigid in his grasp, her eyes strained wide, no recognition in them.

The unstable blade of his weapon flickered red over the faces of the Nightfolk. They crowded closer, their eyes shimmering fire-orange in the light.

 _Be calm_ , they said. _No need for fear._ _We will help you_.

“Leave her alone,” Kylo snarled.

 _She is strong_ , _Full of many dark things. Very good prey_.

“Not for you. She’s _mine_.”

 _Yes, yes_ , yours. _Feed. Feed well_.

In a single thrust of collective will, the Nightfolk pried Rey’s mind open.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a nasty cliffhanger. I don't know about you, but cliffhangers drive me crazy. I'll be posting the next chapter on Tuesday.


	22. Finding the Light

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which terrible fears are faced.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: Thoughts of suicide; traumatic memories.

The Nightfolk crumpled Rey’s shields and ripped into her mind. Pain slammed all the way down to her guts and darkness erupted like pus from a badly healing wound. She screamed once, then memories, fears, nightmares surged up and over her, pulling her down.

She was screaming, crying, fighting to reach her parents as they walked away and left her. Unkar Plutt held her thin arm in a rough, painful grip. He shook her. “Be quiet, girl.”

But no, it wasn’t Unkar’s blubbery form towering over her, but someone else. A big, black-gloved hand engulfed her small one. She looked up, and up, along a length of more black into the scarred, frightening face of a stranger.

The man looked down at her. “Don’t be afraid,” he said gently. “You’ll be all right. Come with me.”

Rey went with him, because he held her hand. And because she _wasn’t_ afraid now.

The memory changed to another, when she was maybe twelve or thirteen. She clambered nimbly along twisted catwalks, slipped like the blown sand through crushed corridors.

She was climbing into a compartment high overhead when her rope broke. There was a moment of shrieking terror, then the sand-drifted deck drove into her. She slithered helplessly down an incline to the bottom and lay, unable to move, barely able to breathe, pain gripping her like a predator.

Ominous pops and clinks echoed through the great ship. Sand hissed against its hull and through its innards as the world grew dimmer.

A tall, black-cloaked figure stepped into view. She started. She hadn’t heard anyone approaching, but here someone was, a man with black hair and a scar that slashed from eyebrow to collar.

He crouched by her, raised her head. “You’d better drink.”

From a bottle that looked suspiciously like her own, he tipped water into her mouth. He gently lowered her again.

“Who are you?” she said. “How did you find me?”

“You don’t know?” The echoes of his voice whispered through the vast spaces fast filling with night.

“I feel like I should…” she said slowly.

“You will. Does anyone know you’re here?”

“I try not to let them. Then they won’t steal my salvage.”

His eyes blazed, an alarming expression. He calmed again. He sat down and drew up one long leg. “Don’t worry. You won’t die here, I promise.”

As if he could promise any such thing. People died all the time, here one minute, gone the next…

But the suffocating fear was gone. He reached over, brushed the sand-crusted tracks of tears from her cheeks. She didn’t feel like crying again.

Another memory rolled over her. It was just another night, dark and silent and lonely. But tonight, she was so hungry, so hungry, shaking and dizzy with it. She reached for the stories she told herself, of beautiful green worlds, of oceans and islands, of a stranger stepping off some ship in Niima Outpost to look at her in sudden recognition and sweep her into a joyful embrace. Tonight, they were all hollow, dust and drifting sand, hopeless and futile.

In that moment she saw her future unspooling across Jakku’s wastes to end, sooner or later, in an empty, meaningless death. Sooner, the way things were going.

Despair crushed her. She cried until she couldn’t breathe, sobs that wrenched her chest and doubled her over. Exhaustion finally quieted her, but she still couldn’t sleep.

Weak and sick, she rolled out of her hammock, stepped over her staff where it lay within easy reach. Dressed in nothing more than the too-large shirt she wore for sleeping, she left her shelter.

The ground was cool on her bare feet. The night air raised goosebumps on her skin. She walked on, paying no attention to where. Where didn’t matter. Nothing mattered.

An angry voice spoke behind her: “What are you doing?”

She spun, stumbled, fell to one knee. A man’s tall, black shape loomed against the star-sprinkled night. She should be afraid. She should rise to run, to fight, but was too weak. Bending her head, she sank down.

He stormed over, the scuff of his boots through the grit loud in the huge desert silence. “Get up.”

She didn’t get up. Tears were running down her face again. This was death, sooner than she expected. She didn’t let herself think if it would be easy or hard.

Gloved hands gripped her arms and hauled her to her feet. “Get _up_ , I said. What’s wrong with you? I knew you were reckless. I never thought you were a coward.”

Her head snapped up at that. A thread of fire ran through her. “Let go of me.” She tried to jerk free of his hold, but he only held tighter. “Leave me alone!”

“You’ve been alone too much already. No. I’m not leaving you alone. You’re going back to your shelter and wake up in the morning with better sense.” He took her by the elbow, turned and marched her, stumbling, back the way she’d come.

“I’m not a coward. I’m not going back to my shelter to die and rot there. Let me go!” She pried at his gloved fingers.

“You won’t die.”

“I haven’t eaten in three days! Maybe four. I lost count. If I don’t find something good to sell soon, it won’t matter anymore.”

He pulled her around to face him, set heavy hands on her shoulders and bent down close enough she could see the scar that slashed over one dark eye and down his cheek.

“ _You won’t die_ ,” he said fiercely. “You’ll find good salvage soon, maybe even tomorrow.”

“How do—”

“I just know. Trust me.”

There in the dark with an angry stranger, she didn’t see why she would. Maybe that’s why she did.

The darkness inside her tattered and blew away, leaving her floating in a fragile, hopeful place.

Now she stood with Finn high over a vast, cavernous space. Wind smelling of cold and pines blew at her back, flicked flecks of snow past them into the dimming air. Far below, Kylo Ren strode along a catwalk, a black-cloaked shadow.

“Ben!” Han’s voice rang out, echoing.

Kylo stopped, turned. Han came into view below, hurrying to meet him. Rey clenched her fists, wanting to drag him back. When he drew nearer, Kylo removed his mask and they spoke, their voices only indiscernible echoes. They stood so close, and Rey’s heart crowded into her throat—

The lightsaber ignited. Han stood pierced for an endless moment, then toppled. Rey screamed.

“ _No!_ ” Finn shouted.

But it wasn’t Finn’s voice, and it wasn’t Finn beside her shouting in horror. It was Kylo.

She turned in shock. He pulled her to him, clutched her close, bent his head to her shoulder. “I wish I could undo it, Rey,” he whispered. “I wish I’d never done it.”

“Why, Ben?” she whispered back.

“I thought I could get rid of this pain. This _needing_.” Even at a whisper, his voice shook. “If I did something terrible enough, it would burn this weakness out of me—”

“It isn’t weakness,” she said. “It means…” She struggled to put into words what she understood in her heart. “It means you’re still _whole_.”

He was still, listening intensely.

“Snoke didn’t manage to cripple you,” she went on. “He couldn’t turn you into a soulless monster. You’re too strong.”

“Not soulless. Only a monster,” he said bitterly. “I don’t know what to do now.”

“I only know…how to survive. Mark every day since the terrible thing so you never forget who you are or where you’re trying to go.”

But she didn’t know how he could survive what he’d done. He might as well have driven that lightsaber into his own heart. The wound was so deep and so agonizing, she didn’t know how he bore it.

It drew at her now, a bottomless depth of darkness and pain. She gasped, sinking, drowning, until there was nothing left. Nothing but pain and grief and guilt and hopelessness.

* * *

Clamping Rey to him with one arm, Kylo thrust into her unprotected mind. She twitched and whimpered against him as nightmare surged up like foul water. He invaded her memories the way he had on Starkiller.

This time, he twisted them to his will. He stepped into each, protecting her, accompanying her through what she’d been forced to endure alone.

The last, of his father…

Her agony of grief and loss echoed his own. He groped for some way to protect her from it. There was none. Because he was the one who’d created it.

She slipped deeper into the helpless horror of seeing Han Solo murdered in front of her eyes. Her mind was nothing but churning darkness, pain that ripped her apart.

He tore himself away, looking wildly around at the Nightfolk surrounding them. Their eyes glowed with avid hunger.

“Stop!” he shouted. “You’re destroying her!”

_Yes_ , they whispered. _Then you will be free_.

He dropped his lightsaber, thrust out a hand, gripping the dark side. He’d crush them all into bloody pulp.

Rey went limp in his grasp, the staff falling with a clank to the floor.

“No! Rey! Rey—”

He sank with her to the ground, pulled her into his lap. She lolled bonelessly, her breaths fast and shallow, white showing between her slitted eyelids. He tucked her head against his shoulder, held her close and tried to push the living energy of the Force into her. It was like trying to push water into an overturned glass.

He knew what it was like to be consumed by darkness. He knew how it could push you into madness and hopelessness and despair.

“It was me!” he raged at her. “Don’t let what I did destroy you!”

_He_ was the one who had to bear the weight of the deed—not her. If someone had to have the strength to endure it, it should be him—

_So give her your strength_.

The thought came so clear it was like someone had spoken it in his ear.

Cradling her, he opened his mind, joined it with hers. He dug deep, searching through layers and years of darkness for some light to buoy her in a dark, drowning sea.

There—a memory long forgotten. His mother, dressed in formal robes for the Senate. He’d looked up at her, full of wonder and awe.

“You look like a princess, Mama.”

She picked him up. “I was one a long time ago, do you believe that?”

He touched one of the jewels in her hair. “Yes.”

More memories rose, bright bubbles in the darkness. Sitting on his father’s lap so he could reach the _Falcon’s_ controls, making the ship swoop and dive.

Han laughed and ruffled his hair. “You’re a natural, kid!”

Riding on Chewie’s broad shoulders as he strode the high forest roads of Kashyyyk, holding out his arms and pretending he was a bird flying through the treetops.

Much, much later…another memory. He chased a frightened girl dressed in castoffs and dirty rags through the woods on Takodana. He caught her soon enough, reached into her mind—

Something flickered just beyond his grasp. He hesitated, held.

Any other prisoner, he’d’ve left conscious and terrified as the stormtroopers dragged her, paralyzed, to the shuttle. It’s what he should do, make her easier to deal with.

He didn’t _want_ to. That flicker, the way it called to him…

He pushed her into merciful sleep then carried her himself, unwilling to entrust her to anyone else. In the shuttle, in his private compartment, he took off his mask, looking at her with his own eyes. He took off a glove, too, laid his hand on her cheek. The still-wet track of a tear lay cool under his thumb.

Very gently, he reached into her mind again, careful not to break the sleep he’d cast her into. A glimmer rose to meet him. He had a sense of awakening, an eye slowly opening within her to look back at him. _What_ was it? Who was she?

He only knew that she pierced him like an exploding star, a sudden, unexpected gleam in his long night of rage and hate and bleak, black numbness. And that he couldn’t let her go.

Finding that brightness within him now was like igniting a lightsaber. The half-strength he’d wielded so long suddenly clicked, spilled out, and light and power poured from him into her. The weak flutter of her life steadied, like a flame sheltered by cupped hands. He held it, fed it, drew it into a firm, bright blaze. It grew, lighting him from within. And he _saw_.

She was wrong about one thing—Snoke _had_ crippled him. For years, _years_ , he’d kept him weak, unbalanced, forced him to twist and mutilate himself. When Snoke compelled him to kill Han Solo, Kylo would’ve broken entirely. Become nothing but a crazed beast to be used and eventually disposed of.

But Rey had been there. She’d seen him. And he’d gone after her. Not because Snoke told him to bring her, but because what he’d seen in her face mirrored the silent horror quivering in him.

_Find her_. There’d been nothing but that one, driving purpose to keep him focused, to keep him sane.

His father’s forgiving touch on his face burned and branded him as surely as Rey’s blade had. Every time he looked at himself, the scar would remind him of the depths he’d sunk to, the terrible things he could do in darkness and pain. That was why the bacta therapy hadn’t been able to heal the scars. Because he couldn’t be allowed to forget.

Rey took a deep, shuddering breath. Color crept into in her face again, and her cheek warmed under his fingers. She stirred in his arms and her eyes fluttered open.

“Ben?” Her voice was weak and wavering. She blinked up at him as if trying to focus. “What did you do?”

He crushed her to him, pressed his face to her hair. “They can’t have you. I won’t let them.” He rocked her. “I won’t let them.”

“It was crushing me,” she whispered. “Then I saw…light. Everywhere. And I could breathe again.” She took another breath, almost a gasp. “It was you.”

He raised his head. His eyes ached with tears. “Rey, no. It isn’t what you think. I can never turn. I’m still—”

She raised a shaking hand to touch his scarred cheek. “I know. But you’re more than that, Kylo.”

Her use of his chosen name went through him like a blade, then he heard the acceptance there.

When had anyone ever just _accepted_ him for who he was? His parents, his uncle, Snoke… All of them had wanted to change him, to force him into the shape they wanted. Rey, who saw him more deeply than anyone ever had, didn’t.

He gradually became aware of the Nightfolk surrounding them, a seething wall of shock and anger and disbelief. He called his lightsaber to his hand and ignited it. His power coiled in him, enough to tear them all to bits, enough to open the entire cavern to the sky.

“Touch her again,” he said, his voice strained with the same power, “and it will be the last thing you do.”

They shifted backward. _You protect this Bright-one? She has bound you! Imprisoned you! Hurt you!_

“I—!” Rey began to protest, struggling to sit up.

Kylo hunched over her protectively, lightsaber spitting in his hand. “She healed and guarded and cared for me when one of _my own kind_ shot me. And the bond goes both ways,” he gritted out. “Me to her, and her to me. _No one_ is breaking it.”

The mutter of the Nightfolk’s thoughts ran through them like wind through grass. The mutter resolved into a question: _What is she to you?_

He felt the light glimmering in him, no longer a tearing agony, but a well of strength. “She’s my center. My balance.”

Rey went still in his arms, not even breathing. He risked a glance down at her. Her eyes were wide, her lips parted in astonishment. He couldn’t begin to sort out the emotions he sensed from her.

Their attention swung to her. Kylo stiffened, ready to rip them apart if they tried anything.

_You_. _Bright-one_. The words addressed to her were decidedly hostile. _What do you want with our brother?_

 He felt everything in her stutter to a stop then start up again, floundering. “I—”

She tried to sit up again. He shifted a hand to her back to help her, his heart suddenly beating hard. He felt her gaze on him, searching. It dragged his own down again, irresistible as gravity.

“He…knows me.” Her voice was barely above a whisper. “He shows me what I was waiting for. He helps me find where I belong.”

“Rey…” he said, his voice hoarse.

_You belong with **me**_ , he thought but didn’t say. She must know it. She had to _feel_ it by now. How could she not?

A confused murmur went through the Nightfolk again. _How can this be? She means him no harm? He calls her his, but not for prey. She soothed his pain. She brought light, but it gives him strength. How?_

“You won’t harm her,” Kylo broke in. “You won’t attack her again.”

_And the Brightfolk? Do they promise to spare you?_

“The Brightfolk saved his life.” Rey’s voice rang through the cavern now.

“Because she demanded it,” he added.

The Nightfolk’s confusion mounted in waves.

Small stones abruptly pattered down from the ceiling. The mind-voices fell silent a moment, then began again, jumbled whispers he couldn’t decipher. Anger and alarm welled up. Kylo felt a tremor go through the ground under him. Bigger stones fell, knocking and clacking as they struck. Dust tinted red by his weapon bloomed in the air, veiling the Nightfolk. He had a sense of questions whispering outward beyond his perception. The ground shook again.

_Come!_ the Nightfolk said. _Come with us!_

Rey stiffened and scrambled to get up. “What—?”

Kylo pulled her to her feet, steadying her with a hand on her waist. “Get ready. If that ceiling comes down—”

_The Brightfolk attack! Hurry!_ They swept around him and Rey, a multitude of hands on them, steering them across the cavern.

Another tremor came. Rocks hissed down like hail. Kylo choked on dust so thick he could see only a globe of red around them. He sensed back along the tunnel they’d come through. Nothing, no pursuit, no sense of minds back that direction.

“That isn’t the Brightfolk,” he said.

Rey whipped around, knowledge dawning on her face.

“We have to get to the town,” Kylo said. “Now.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There were some hard things to deal with in this chapter. First, the elephant in the room: Kylo's murder of Han Solo. It's a terrible, terrible thing to have done, especially considering that he tells Rey that he didn't hate his father. So why did he do it? Yes, Snoke commanded it, but I felt Kylo had to have a reason of his own, too. 
> 
> Then there's the matter of Kylo's scar. Pablo Hidalgo's Visual Dictionary of _The Last Jedi_ explains that the lightsaber wound scarred because bacta therapy wasn't applied in time. Okay, I know this is the canon explanation, but I have trouble believing that a delay of a few hours at most would do this. There's also the fact that Kylo is curiously unresentful of having been disfigured, never once speaking of it to Rey, though he becomes furious when Snoke mocks him for it. Some writers suggest it's because Rey was the one to give him the scar, that he somehow sees it as a mark of ownership. It seems more likely to me that it's because he feels he deserves it.
> 
> Finally, I debated long and hard if Rey, the ultimate survivor, would _ever_ have thoughts of suicide. I ultimately decided that in a moment of extreme physical and psychological suffering and weakness, she might. Obviously, she didn't go through with it, pulling herself together on her own. I think this demonstrates more strength than if she never felt this kind of despair at all.


	23. Turning Point

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the Nightfolk show what bad enemies they make.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have to say how grateful I am for all the kind words. If you only knew how much I value every comment, subscription, bookmark and kudo! You make writing this story so much fun.

Kylo held Rey’s wrist in a steel grip as they ran. The tunnels were a jerking confusion of rock and plumes of dust lit red by his lightsaber. The ground still shook intermittently. A threatening rumble came. Kylo let her go, raised a hand and the Force surged. A moment later, a rush and grind of rock came from behind them—he’d held off a rockfall.

Rey couldn’t see beyond the backs of the Nightfolk ahead, but she felt pain and terror past them. Memories of TIE fighters pounding Niima Outpost, of the ancient stones of Maz’s castle toppling under the First Order’s onslaught thrust into her mind.

“No, no, no,” she panted with every pounding step. Tam, Jaeagar, Verrannallu, the people who’d done nothing worse than help them—

_Brother, if this is not the Brightfolk_ , the Nightfolk said, _then who?_

“This is my true enemy,” Kylo said. “Killing me won’t be enough. They’ll kill anyone they think had anything to do with me. Everyone, just to make a point.”

Hate and anger rippled through the Force. _They come to Jannessi to destroy? To kill you, our brother? They will find the Nightfolk make very bad enemies_.

“You want prey?” Kylo panted, his breaths ragged gasps now. “You’ll find plenty where we’re going.”

Rey felt back along the bond and touched—darkness. Almost as much as after he’d been shot. He was using the dark side to fuel himself, but she didn’t know how—or how much—it could counter the effects of blood loss. A lot more than she expected, it seemed.

Light speared ahead. She squinted, held a hand spread-fingered over her face then daylight blazed over her, as harsh and glaring after the darkness of underground as Jakku’s sun. She felt sand under her running feet, a slice of grey sky above the steep banks of a wadi. The same one she’d encountered the Nightfolk in, probably. Wind whipped a spattering of stinging raindrops.

Even from the bottom of the wadi, Rey heard screams, the howling roar of TIE fighters, the popping whistle of blaster fire. The Nightfolk swarmed up the steep banks. She scrambled up, too, pulling herself up hand- and footholds of roots and rocks as crumbles of dirt and small stones rained down from the Nightfolk climbing above. Gasping, ignoring the fire in her shredded hands, she hauled herself to her feet at the top.

The town gates rose less than half a klik away. Chaos churned there. Anger and terror and aggression and fear roiled, suffocating. Rey staggered, throwing out a hand as if that could block out the force of the emotions ahead.

The Nightfolk rolled toward it all, a surging wave of tall, grey bodies trailing ropes of dark hair. The dark side of the Force, already surging with the madness ahead, spiked. She felt their minds reach out, hungry and irresistible.

TIE fighters strafed the grasslands—or people fleeing across them. One ship suddenly swung away. For a moment, Rey thought it had gone after other prey. Instead, it drove into the ground, exploded in a fireball. Another pulled up and fired on another fighter, then a second, sending the hapless craft spinning away across the sky.

Outside the gates, stormtroopers were a heaving mass of white armor and red blaster fire. The fire stuttered. People had been screaming before, and now more screams joined them, screams distorted by voice modulators. Blaster fire that had been directed at the town suddenly crisscrossed madly. White-armored figures screamed and fell. Rey stumbled to a stop, unable to believe what she was seeing. The stormtroopers were firing _at each other_. Like the TIE fighters were.

Nightfolk streamed past her. One turned a grinning face toward her. _We feed well today_ , it whispered into her mind as it passed.

Breath burning her lungs, a stitch stabbing her side, she pushed herself into motion again. She felt Kylo nearby, the dark side swirling tightly around him.

In the milling, disorganized mass of stormtroopers, several tore off their helmets. They howled, flailed, staggered blindly. One flung himself down, bashing his head over and over into the ground. Another fell to his knees, tearing at his hair as tears streamed down his face. Just beyond that one, she caught a glimpse of dark skin, black hair—

“Finn!” she screamed.

She pushed through the stumbling stormtroopers. One crashed into her—she thrust out a hand and bounced him away with the Force. Panting, she ran to Finn where he’d fallen to hands and knees—

Not Finn. Of course it wasn’t. How could it be?

The dark face was broad and angular, not rounded. The black hair was straight, not a smooth cap of tight curls. Still, the remembrance caught at something in her. She knelt and gripped his white-armored arms.

His anguish and horror beat at her, and she knew. The Nightfolk were doing to the First Order force what they’d done to her in the cavern.

Even though they were the enemy, even though they were here to capture or kill her and Kylo, looking at the torment on this man’s face, knowing what was happening to him, she couldn’t stand by and do nothing. She _could_ do what Kylo had done for her—go into the stormtrooper’s mind.

It was like slipping past a curtain, no resistance at all. Images roiled of blood and death, the pleas and desperate sobbing cries of innocents, brutal training designed to crush souls. Rey shuddered and shut her mind to it all, delving deeper for something, anything—

There. A spot of brightness. A kernel of hope. A dream that crept in when mind and body were too numbed and exhausted to push it away. She seized it, dragged it forward, out of the shadows where it was hidden away. She knew as well as this man did how something as fragile as a dream could keep you alive, make you get up to face the next hopeless, empty day.

_This is something that can be true_ , she whispered into his mind. _Hold on to it. Make it happen_.

She pulled out of his mind. He’d rocked back on his heels. His plastoid-gauntleted hands gripped her arms, tight bands around her biceps. A pulse of alarm went through her, then she saw his face as he looked at her, full of wonder and awe.

He let her go and pushed to his feet. “Hold your fire!” he shouted to the other stormtroopers. “ _Hold your fire!”_

Blaster fire still slashed the storm-muted daylight. Screams still filled the air—the stormtroopers’, those of the townsfolk. Nightfolk stalked like the predators they were through the chaos, gripping troopers’ minds, dropping them to the ground as they tore their worst nightmares from them.

Rey thrust to her feet, braced herself, and opened herself as far as she could reach. The horror suffered around her was painful and suffocating, like standing naked in a sandstorm. She floundered a moment then caught herself, reached through shredding, hungry darkness for the pinpricks of light sparking in the minds around her. She added her own light to them until they caught fire.

Kylo’s attention and alarm fell on her like a blow from her own staff. She blinked back into the world.

He stood in front of her, half-crouched protectively, his lightsaber blazing.

Not-Finn stood beyond him, one hand up in a gesture of surrender and his blaster pointed at the sky. “She’s safe, sir. Nobody’s going to hurt her.”

Rey glanced around. Kylo had a reason to be alarmed. While she’d ridden the Force, more stormtroopers had gathered around them—twenty, thirty of them armed with blasters and flamethrowers. It took her a moment to realize that not one weapon was aimed at them. In fact, the blaster fire had stopped completely. Whatever had happened to the squadron of TIEs, they weren’t in the air anymore.

The Nightfolk swept toward the town gates and the cries and sounds of violence that came from within.

Some troopers still wore their helmets, but others were bareheaded. Bleeding gouges marked the faces of more than one where they’d clawed themselves. She felt amazement, bewilderment, hopefulness pouring off them in waves. The brightness within her mingled with and heightened the currents of emotion all around.

Kylo shifted so he could see her and still watch the stormtroopers around them. “You’re doing this.”

She was, she could feel it. The way the Nightfolk had pulled darkness out of every mind they touched, she was somehow—

“Sir,” Not-Finn said. “I’ve recalled the troops from the town. What are your orders?”

Rey’s mouth dropped open.

Kylo blinked. “ _My_ orders.”

“Yes, sir. The current mission is a scratch. We need new orders.”

“What is—was the mission, commander?” Kylo didn’t relax, but he straightened from his fighting crouch.

“To find and kill y—Kylo Ren and the rebel girl with him.” He glanced at Rey, and a haunted horror bloomed in his eyes. “We—that’s impossible now, sir. After what— I know what’s been done to us. After what we’ve seen.”

“I saw some of it,” Rey whispered. “Finn—” She swallowed hard, suddenly missing him more than ever. “I don’t know how he survived it.”

Not only survived it, but came through a kind, decent, caring human being. It humbled her.

“That’s what the First Order does,” Kylo said harshly. “Takes children and spends years doing everything possible to rip any humanity out of them.”

_The way Snoke did you?_ she thought. No wonder the thought of stormtrooper training enraged him.

He turned to Not-Finn and waved a hand around them, at the town gates. “Clean this up. Have your medic treat the wounded—yours _and_ theirs. Contact your command. Tell them ‘mission accomplished,’ just some mop-up to be done.”

Not-Finn gave a sharp nod. “Yes, sir.”

He turned, shouting orders to the other stormtroopers. Orders, they knew. They began to move. Rey could feel their gazes on her shaken, uncertain, like people suddenly awakened from a bad dream.

Deactivating his lightsaber, Kylo turned to study her. “Do you know what you did?”

“I knew what the Nightfolk were doing to them.” She meant to be defiant, but it came out defensive. “I know how it feels. I know they’re—” She stopped, watching a stormtrooper help up a Janessi man, Brightfolk. “–they _were_ our enemies. But I couldn’t just—”

His hands closed on her arms, lifted her to tiptoe. “That was _battle meditation_ , Rey,” he breathed.

She felt his awe. _Awe_. From Kylo Ren.

“I— What?” she said.

“It’s a rare ability. It’s _powerful_.”

Emotions churned through him quicker than she could identify them. He still gripped her, still held her up on her toes as if he wanted to pick her up but didn’t quite dare.

“We _turned_ them,” he whispered. “The Nightfolk showed them what they are. You showed them what they _can be_. We can—”

He looked up, into the sky. She felt his sudden fierce triumph, the narrowing of his flying thoughts to an intention. She looked up, too, but saw only curdled storm clouds, dark with menace.

Nightfolk had drifted up behind them—Rey could feel their minds skitter across hers, not hostile but curious. And…less…hungry? It was the only way she could describe it.

Kylo finally let her back down, but kept a hand on her arm.

_These humans are very good prey_ , the Nightfolk said. _Full of many dark things_.

Their mind-voices whispered like sand against starship hulls. _Long, long have we been driven out. Long have we been left to starve in the dark places. Long have we been hunted like animals_.

“Because you _are_ animals!” a voice shouted.

The Nightfolk’s attention shifted to whoever had spoken and they moved closer together. She had a sense of them meshing to form a solid wall, felt the dark side swell again.

Rey turned. Armed Brightfolk stalked toward them, blasters leveled.

“No!” Rey thrust out a hand and reached for the Force the same moment Kylo did. The group stopped, frozen in place. “They just saved you!” she shouted. “You’d all be dead if it hadn’t been for them. Believe me, I’ve seen it before.”

One of the Brightfolk, a ragged, soot-streaked man, strained against the paralysis. “After years, _centuries_ of what they’ve done to us, killing and maddening our people, we’re supposed to be grateful now?”

_You kill us for the crime of simple existence!_ the Nightfolk said. _You starve us unto madness and ask why we drain dry the ones we happen to catch_.

Rey’s thoughts raced ahead. _Prey_. _Feeding_ —

Kylo anticipated her question. “They feed on fear.” She sensed his thoughts racing, too.

She knew what it was like to be hungry, ravenous, _desperate_ to eat and eat and eat until your belly couldn’t hold one more morsel. The Nightfolk had been like that. Now they weren’t. They seemed rational beings, no longer pure predators.

She let the Brightfolk go, nudged Kylo to do the same. His flat refusal came through the bond. She looked up at him, pleading, met his narrow glare. Finally, he gave a disgusted huff, dropped his hand and his hold on the Brightfolk.

“What you did to me down there,” she said to the Nightfolk, pointing to the ground. “You would’ve destroyed me.”

_Yes_ , they said. _To free our brother_.

Kylo’s hand tightened on her arm.

“Can you, um, feed without doing that?” Rey asked.

The Night-one nearest turned to look at her, three yellow eyes blazing into hers. A sudden dread seized her. It was a vague, floating sort of fear, but it made her swallow hard and clench her staff. As suddenly as it had come, the feeling faded.

_I fed from you_. Night-one’s mind-voice was like wind over the dunes. _I did not destroy you_.

“No,” Rey said shakily. “You didn’t. Thank you.”

“You _thank_ them!” another of the Brightfolk gasped. “For not killing you or driving you mad?”

“For showing me that they don’t _have_ to,” Rey said, then added pointedly, “If they’re not starved.”

Ugliness rose and spread through the Force. There were other mutters spreading: “Why does she accompany Nightkind?” “She brought them here.” “Look at what else they’ve brought!” “The soldiers were here looking for _them_.” “How many died because they were here?”

Rey was exhausted, hurting and out of patience. Kylo’s grip had tightened close to the point of pain, and barely-leashed violence seethed in him. She jerked free—not because it hurt, and not because of his threat.

Fists clenched, breathing hard, she stormed toward the armed group, ignoring the sudden spike of Kylo’s fury through the bond. Amazingly, the Brightfolk backed up when she neared. Blasters came to bear on her, then even more amazingly, wavered away.

She stopped close enough to hit at least three of them with her staff. The Force would take care of the rest, if it came to that.

“Yes,” she snapped. “I’m with the Nightkind. I’m with him for the same reason you’re with someone you care about—because he matters to me. I’m Bright and he’s Night and that isn’t supposed to happen, but it _has_. You should be glad it has, because _you_ are going to need these people.” She pointed back over her shoulder to the Nightfolk. “You’re right, people got hurt, people got killed because of Kylo and me. We’ll leave, but I don’t think that will be the end of your problems. I’m guessing more soldiers will come anyway, and if you don’t want more people to get hurt and die, you’re going to need protection. The Nightfolk can give it to you.”

She turned to face the Nightfolk, her back prickling with awareness of those blasters behind her. Kylo’s eyes were narrowed, his hand half-raised. A clashing mixture of anger and admiration and astonishment came from him.

“You don’t have any reason to love the Brightfolk,” Rey said to the Nightfolk. “But the world being invaded is yours, too. And while you’re protecting it, you get to feed. No more starving in the dark.”

“And this,” a familiar voice said behind her, “is why we sheltered this Bright-one and her Night-one.”

Rey turned to face Verrannallu. With her was the older man the healer had talked to in the barn that first morning—Rasshinn? Was that his name? The other Brightfolk shuffled back, their blasters lowered, several almost half-hiding the weapons behind their backs.

Relief rushed over Rey. She pushed past the other Brightfolk and threw her arms around Verrannallu. “Oh, I’m so glad,” she whispered.

“So am I,” Verrannallu said, embracing her in return.

Rey pulled back. “Tam…?” Her throat went dry.

“He’s well,” Verrannallu said. “He remembers none of it. As if the memory had been plucked from his mind.” She raised her head, gave Kylo a nod.

Rey looked back at him in surprise. He nodded once, acknowledging.

Something tugged at the hem of her trousers. She looked down. The hassash. She barely kept from jumping back before it held up two forelimbs, clearly a request to come up.

She was keenly aware of both Brightfolk and Nightfolk watching her. The hassash stayed where it was, its little hands held up imploringly. Wetting her lips, she bent.

The creature caught her wrist, scuttled up her arm and onto her shoulder. Sliding two arms around behind her neck, it stroked her hair and crooned.

It took every ounce of Rey’s will to keep from shrinking. She saw Kylo’s face, his eyes burning with some emotion she couldn’t name. Whatever it was, it drew her, and she found herself crossing the space between them without deciding to.

He stood gazing down at her when she reached him, still with that same look. He raised a hand then hesitated, as if unsure what to do with it. She took it, gripped it hard and his gaze softened. With a satisfied sigh, the hassash snuggled against her neck, petting her hair again.

Around them, stormtroopers moved, putting out fires, carrying the wounded, clearing debris from the fight. Brightfolk and Nightfolk stood eyeing each other warily.

“How long?” Rasshinn murmured. “How long has it been since Brightfolk and Nightfolk stood together under the same sky?”

“As many years as there are blades of grass,” Verrannallu said.

_We do not forget what was done to us_ , the Nightfolk whispered.

“Nor do we,” Rasshinn said. “We’re not your prey.”

“No,” Kylo said. “But the galaxy is full of fear. Enough to spare.” He turned to the Nightfolk. “What would you say if I told you I can give you all you want?”

A chill ran up Rey’s back. “Ben—”

He raised his free hand: _wait_. She subsided uneasily.

The rush of the Nightfolk conversing among themselves passed like a mutter of half-heard words.

_We say_ , they finally answered, _we will listen to our brother’s words_.


	24. Precursor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which possibilities are realized and nocturnal visits are made.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're edging closer to that Mature rating here...

Trust was a funny thing. You could go without thinking about it, without even realizing it was there. Suddenly, when you realized you needed it, it felt like leaning out over a long, long drop while hanging onto a frayed rope.

It felt like that as she listened to Kylo and the stormtrooper commander plot the most effective means of someone’s downfall. When she’d mocked him, asking what he did for the First Order, Rey hadn’t thought about seeing him in action. Now, as stormtroopers and Nightfolk loaded onto the troop transports, she did.

She’d told herself stories to survive the days and nights of a bleak, lonely existence. How many stories had she told herself about Kylo? The hunter, the creature in a mask. The monster. The quiet voice in the night, the secret confidant. A bright vision of possibility, a fearsome ally, a fellow fugitive. Now this. What was he really? Or was this only a matter of getting to know someone, their dark and their light, their good and bad, strengths and weaknesses?

She didn’t know. There had never been anyone she’d been able to get to know—no one she ever trusted that far. So now she hung on that frayed rope and hoped for all she was worth that it held.

The troop transport she was aboard roared and shuddered through Jannessi’s atmosphere—not much in the way of inertial dampers _here_. The hassash hummed an almost-tune in her ear and stroked her hair. She had an idea it was supposed to be comforting—it almost _was_ comforting, if she didn’t think too hard about what was doing it. She’d wanted to get rid of the thing a while ago, but it wouldn’t leave her. _Let it stay_ , Kylo had told her. _If the Nightfolk don’t behave, it’ll bite them_.

From the stormtroopers around her, Rey sensed nervous anticipation and fear of the Nightfolk that accompanied them. From the Nightfolk, she sensed hungry anticipation.

Clearer than both was Kylo, on one of the other transports—anticipation, yes, focus, determination, ferocity. He felt like a storm raging toward the First Order ship orbiting Jannessi.

Someone’s attention tugged at her awareness. She looked over to find one of the stormtroopers watching her. It was uncomfortable, looking into the faceless face, but she offered a smile.

His helmet dipped in a nod. After a moment, he said, “Why did you help me? We were killing your people.” The modulator distorted his voice, but she thought it was Not-Finn.

“You reminded me of a friend. He used to be a stormtrooper, too. His name is Finn.”

“I’m DR-8853.”

“Finn told me he had a number, too, but he took a name. You should have a name. All of you should.”

More faces had turned toward them now. Rey sensed…hope.

“In my…dreams,” the stormtrooper said softly, “the dreams I had when I saw you…I was called Dare.”

Something bright leapt up in her. “Dare,” she said. “It’s a good name. I like it.”

He nodded again. “I do too.”

The deck fell still under them. They must’ve broken atmosphere. Rey wanted to be in the cockpit where she could see what was happening, but surprise was key to the plan’s success. If anyone aboard the ship they were headed for spotted a grubby girl with ragged hair and a bent staff, dressed in a bloodstained, too-large shirt in the cockpit, people would definitely get suspicious.

The sound of the engines changed, winding down. There was stillness, then a slight bump as the transport set down. The stormtroopers stirred, straightening, arranged themselves in orderly rows.

“Wait for my signal,” said DR-8853—Dare. “Once communications are down, we proceed. EL-4906, YT-1365, you guard Rey. Questions?”

_No one will harm our brother’s Bright-one_ , the Nightfolk said. The hassash hissed softly in her ear.

Rey wasn’t used to such a surfeit of protection. It felt almost…suffocating. Like she couldn’t get away if she had to.

_Do I need to get away?_ she thought. _Do I want to?_

“Ready,” Dare said.

The boarding ramp whined down, letting in bright, cold light. The stormtroopers marched out except for her guards. The Nightfolk’s anticipation swelled, quivering.

“Wait,” she said.

_As our brother has said_.

Of course they wouldn’t listen to her. She looked at one—tall, thin, the three yellow eyes colder and more alien than the Brightfolk’s ever were.

“What I do—did—with the stormtroopers on Jannessi,” she said. “Does it hurt you?”

Their whispers flowed around her. Two stepped very close, one beside her, the other behind. The hassash’s hands shifted on her shoulders. She forced herself to stand still.

_Does it hurt you when we fed from them?_

“No,” she said. Not directly, anyway. But indirectly— She shivered.

They didn’t say anything else. The answer must be ‘no.’ A good thing, she guessed, if they were supposed to be allies.

She sighed. She was beginning to realize how Kylo must’ve felt surrounded by Brightfolk.

A burst of static came from the stormtroopers’ comms. One touched the side of his helmet.

“It’s a go,” he said.

The Nightfolk flowed down the ramp. The dark side of the Force poured out ahead of them. Screams began.

Rey was supposed to wait, to let the Nightfolk do their work before she followed and did hers. _Battle meditation_ , whatever it was. The screams drew her in their wake, out into a hangar much smaller than the _Finalizer’s_ vast hangars.

The other troop transports sat on the deck nearby. Nightfolk swept out of them, too, spread across the hangar. She saw Kylo among them, dark in the darkness even without his usual menacing black garb. A spark shot through her the moment his gaze landed on her.

One of the Nightfolk nearby whirled and pointed at her.

_Wait_. Its mind-voice was sharp with command.

The hassash locked its hands on her shoulders in emphasis.

TIE pilots and stormtroopers and uniformed officers writhed on the deck or ran in blind panic. Rey’s heart and breaths sped as if the panic was her own. She took three running steps before she felt a push from Kylo through the bond. She shoved back, seething, but stopped.

_Wait_. She was supposed to wait while they tortured people.

Her stormtrooper guard stood on either side of her. Their horror and dismay rolled over her. Rey wanted to shut her mind to it all, but then she wouldn’t be able to help the people who needed it.

“Hold on, ma’am,” one said. “Not much longer.”

Fists clenched, breathing hard, she quivered like the Nightfolk had. They were disappearing through hatches now, into the corridors beyond. The sobs and screams of the men and women in the hangar tore at her, almost as maddening as when the Nightfolk had attacked her. Her gaze was drawn across the glossy black deck to Kylo, where he stood outside a lift looking back at her. He nodded once and stepped inside. The doors slid closed.

Rey instantly reached for the bright sparks in the minds of the First Order crew.

* * *

They rolled through the ship, an unstoppable tide of darkness. Kylo let it carry him forward as he swept away any resistance that didn’t fall to the Nightfolk. The storm commandos from Jannessi came behind as rear guard.

By the time they’d reached it, the bridge was boiling with confusion and panic. Now it was calm, the battle won, the captain and officers dazed and unsteady but no longer a threat.

He breathed power and triumph. One ship. The _Precursor_. He’d take the name for an omen. Only a cruiser, but it was a beginning.

Distress spiked through the Force. DR-8853 turned toward him suddenly. “Sir, YT-1365 requests your presence.”

Kylo stiffened. One of the commandos he’d left to guard Rey. Pushing aside the heady intoxication of the dark side, he reached out through the bond and felt—

“Take over here,” he snapped to DR-8853 and turned toward the Nightfolk, five of them scattered among the bridge personnel. “Anyone who turns against us is yours.”

The two nearest him grinned _. Yes, brother_.

His lightsaber crackling in his hand, he stormed off the bridge. Something about the weapon tugged at his attention as he strode along the corridors, something different…

He heard Rey before he saw her: “I’m fine. I’m fine! No—no, don’t! It’ll bite you!” Then the hassash’s threatening hiss—

Kylo rounded a corner. Rey leaned against one wall of the corridor, hand outstretched, the hassash hissing at the two storm commandos facing her. Others were there, too—techs, an officer. He swept a hand to one side and they were all flung back against the opposite wall, pinned there.

Rey spun, staggering a little. She put a hand to the wall to steady herself “What are you doing?”

“What happened?” he growled, his lightsaber still spitting.

“They were trying to help! Let them go!”

He hesitated, then released them. Everyone stumbled away from the wall. The officer and techs scuttled off, their fear shivering through the Force.

“What happened?” he said again, looking between the stormtroopers and Rey.

“Sir,” YT-1365 said. “She—”

“I—am— _fine_ ,” Rey broke in.

Kylo turned to her, narrow-eyed. She was pale. Shaking. Tears streaked her cheeks. Distress shivered through the bond, even the Force.

“Thank you, YT-1365,” he said, never breaking from Rey’s gaze. He deactivated his lightsaber. “Show us to the medcenter.”

Taking Rey’s arm, he started after the storm commandos. The hassash clambered from her shoulder to his.

“I’m—” she began.

“The more you say that, the less I believe you.”

“Ben— Kylo, wait.”

He let the troopers get ahead. “Tell me.”

“I’m sorry. It’s just—” She slumped, scrubbed her hands over her face. “There were so _many_ ,” she whispered.

He didn’t understand. Then he did.

For all the violence and suffering she’d experienced in her life, she’d never been in a battle. The only thing remotely similar was when they escaped the _Finalizer_ , and she’d used the dark side then. She wasn’t using the dark side now. And she had to open herself to every terror the Nightfolk drew on.

“Rey,” he said quietly. “I didn’t think.”

She swallowed, swallowed again. He knew she wanted to cry. He thought of when he’d held her in the barn when the Nightfolk attacked, the way she buried her face in his neck and cried then. He wanted to hold her now, but only slid his hand to her back, pulling her closer.

The dark side still surged through him—he needed it to keep going. Submission would be easiest to press on her, but calm and quiet were close enough he could manage. She relaxed under his hand and leaned into him.

“This was a quick, clean victory,” he said. “You know what their lives in the First Order have been like. You saw. Now they have another choice.”

“I know.” She nodded, swiped a hand across her face again. “I’m okay. Sorry.”

He shook his head, dismissing her apology. “Let’s go. I still want you checked out.”

She frowned at him. “Only if _you_ get checked out. You need a medic worse than I do.”

He couldn’t argue with that. Despite Force healing and the Jannessi healer’s efforts, his blaster wound could still do with bacta therapy, and his dragging fatigue told him he probably needed a transfusion. “We’ll both get checked out.”

* * *

A “quick, clean victory” didn’t mean the medcenter wasn’t still packed with casualties. Rey didn’t want to see what a long, messy one looked like. And topping off Kylo’s blood supply and doing whatever needed to be done to his wound took more time.

She found a spot against a corridor bulkhead among the triaged patients, put her head down on her knees, held her staff in front of her like a barrier and closed her eyes, exhausted.

She felt Kylo reaching through the bond and raised her head. When he came out into the corridor, everyone else’s head came up, too, the stormtroopers and TIE pilots with their helmets off to show their bruised, bloody faces, the officers with their uniforms torn and jackets and caps missing. She wondered if they knew who he was, or if it was only the raw power pouring off him. It was funny how he could still have that effect while wearing what was clearly someone else’s old shirt.

His gaze raked over her, more intense than she had energy to face.

“What are you doing here?” he said.

It seemed obvious. “Waiting for you.”

He studied her a moment longer, then offered a hand. She took it and let him pull her up. She felt eyes on her back until they turned into an empty corridor.

“Why didn’t you stay for proper treatment?” There was an edge to his voice. It occurred to her that there’d been an edge to _him_ since he walked out of the medcenter.

She made a face. “There are people hurt worse. I only needed some bacta patches.”

She sensed his disagreement, but he didn’t say anything, only guided her along triangular corridors that were too cold and smelled of recycled air. The people they passed didn’t make eye contact and gave them as wide a berth as possible.

“I’ve arranged quarters,” he said shortly, then with another sharp glance, “And food.”

She tried to sort out what she was sensing from him, but her mind just buzzed, unwilling to make the effort. Unease trickled through her. “I thought—”

“Go on.”

“What about Jannessi? We aren’t going back?”

“I found what I was looking for.”

“What?”

He just looked at her.

She stopped. “What?” she said again. “Maybe it’s obvious to you, but not to me.”

“Do you enjoy being hunted?” he said.

She gave him his own look right back.

After a moment, he relented. “Now we have a toehold. A chance to fight back.” He started walking again.

Galactic domination seemed to be simmering again. She stifled a sigh.

“I _like_ Jannessi,” she grumbled.

Another look, this one disbelieving.

“I like Verrannallu and Jaegar and Tam,” she corrected. “I like the mallikin. I liked fixing the speeder. I was going to fix things for other people.”

“Rey—” He stopped whatever he was going to say. “You get attached too easily.”

“Why shouldn’t I? You’d be _dead_ if it wasn’t for them,” she said, temper rising. “And then after everything they did, people got hurt and killed because of us. What’s wrong with you, anyway? Why are you acting like this?”

Three stormtroopers came around the corner at the end of the corridor. Kylo looked up at them. They turned right back around.

He rounded on her, fists clenching. “I won’t shout,” he said. “I won’t throw things this time.”

She fought an impulse to swing her staff off her shoulder. “What for?”

He closed his eyes briefly. She had the sense his fists were clenched on his slipping temper.

“We agreed the boy in the sinkhole was a trap, yet you came after me when I went down there. Why?”

She just stared. He was bringing this up _now?_ “You disappeared! What was I supposed to do?”

“Wait. I can take care of myself.”

“You were _hurt_ ,” she said. “I couldn’t sense anything from you. What would you’ve done in my place?”

It was his turn to stare. His hands relaxed. “The same thing. But with more destruction.”

It was a joke, sort of. Except it wasn’t. “That’s what I thought. And I _did_ think about it, even if you don’t believe it.”

“No. I think you looked for a reason.”

“What if I did?” She did shrug her staff off her shoulder now, poked the bent end into his chest. “You’re the one who dragged me into all this. _Twice_. Don’t complain about how I handle things.”

He pushed her staff away. It was mildly threatening, but no more threatening than poking him in the chest. The edge she’d felt softened and she caught a flicker of exasperated amusement.

“Reckless,” he said. “I still don’t know how you survived.”

“Dumb luck, probably,” she said, disgusted.

“The Force.”

“That too.”

He turned and started walking again.

The cruiser was old, maybe as old as the ships she’d crawled through back on Jakku. The quarters he took her to were just big enough for a narrow bunk and clothes chest and tiny refresher through a door on the opposite wall. He stood behind her as she took it in, a looming presence as dark as the bulkheads around her.

The Force pulsed and the door hissed shut. She turned, her skin prickling. He stood gazing down at her with one of his burning looks. She couldn’t read his face, suddenly couldn’t read him through the bond, but something made her back a step. She bumped into the bunk.

His hand rose and he touched warm fingers to the bruise around her neck. “Don’t do anything like that again.” His voice was soft now. “What you did this morning. What you did yesterday. Promise me.”

His anger she could stand against. The softness was something else entirely.

“I don’t know. I’ll try.”

“Try hard.”

She gave a hiccup of a laugh. “Okay. I’ll try hard.”

He dropped his hand. “Rest. You need it.”

The door closed behind him, leaving her alone in a small, gloomy, cold room that for all its cleanliness, was somehow less inviting than her shelter on Jakku.

Rey marched herself into the ‘fresher to wash—there was no way she’d get into bed gritty with rock dust. Just because she’d had to go to bed grimy forever didn’t mean she liked it.

At last, she crawled into the bed with a grateful sigh, knowing she’d be unconscious in seconds.

The sheets were like everything else in the First Order: crisp and unforgiving. The mattress made only a token attempt to keep the bones of her hips and shoulder from grinding into the sleeping platform.  Her muscles ached from what felt like an endless series of fights. She closed her eyes, breathed slowly and waited to sink into sleep.

She didn’t. She counted her breaths, concentrated on relaxing each muscle, one by one. She imagined the peacefulness of Ahch-To. Minutes dragged past, a lot of them. She remained awake, restless, oddly bereft. The sheets felt cold, the bed too empty…

And she realized what the problem was: no Kylo.

“Oh, for pity’s sake, Rey,” she said aloud and opened her eyes to the dim room. She didn’t know whether to laugh or be completely mortified.

Once she thought it, she couldn’t _stop_ thinking about it. The way he was so big and warm and solid, the way his arms felt around her, like nothing and no one could get past. His rich, dark scent that could go to her head like giszen-weed smoke if she let it. His heartbeat under her ear, his breaths like the ocean had sounded on Ahch-To, his dark eyes that always seemed to speak more than words ever could—

She became aware of heat unfurling through her and stopped, taken aback.

She wasn’t _completely_ ignorant about sex. In a place like Jakku, you found out just about everything at a young age. She’d also learned very early that men were frequently predators to be guarded against.

The problem was, Kylo often felt awfully predatory to her survivor’s instincts. The _biggest_ predator, the one other predators wisely avoided. So she didn’t know how she could think of him like _that_ , the way that made that pleasant but disquieting warmth curl through her, making her tighten and ache.

Probably because he wasn’t here. Well, here, on the other side of some bulkheads somewhere, but not _here_ -here.

Another instinct, newer and less familiar but just as strong, whispered that crossing that line wasn’t a thing to be done lightly. She’d crossed a lot of lines with him, but this one wouldn’t just be scratching a biological itch or closing some kind of bargain, the way it mostly was on Jakku. To him, it would mean much more. Greater closeness and trust, something she didn’t know if she could commit to.

Still, how would it feel? To be kissed. She closed her eyes and brought her fingers to her lips. To be touched. Her hand slipped downward…

A familiar, ear-popping sensation came, the sense of the Force building a quiet bubble just big enough for her and one other. Her eyes snapped open.

Kylo lay in the bed with her, facing her. He wore black—of course—a loose shirt that left his arms and a sliver of his chest bare.

“Oh!” she said, torn between embarrassment and horror, and started to sit up.

His hand shot out to lie against her cheek, fingers curling into her hair. The touch was real and gentle, stilling her.

“It’s all right,” he said. “I feel it too.”

A startled smile tugged at her lips. Where had she heard that before? “I just forgot,” she said. “About the bond doing this.”

She hoped that would be a convincing explanation for her fluster. Which wasn’t _helped_ by seeing all that muscle on display.

“Me too,” he said.

Her heart was still beating harder than it should. “What do you feel?”

He just looked at her for a long moment, one arm pillowing his head, his thumb tracing a warm arc on her cheek. His eyes were very, very dark. “Lonely,” he finally said.

“Me too.” She realized she’d echoed him and gave a breath of a laugh. “Stupid bond.”

“No. Never that.”

“No, I guess not. But it’s…” She trailed off uneasily.

“Awkward?”

“Something like that.”

He seemed to think about it. She saw when another thought came to him—something flickered in his eyes. “Join me, Rey.”

Mischief! That’s what she saw. Kylo Ren was teasing her while he lay in her bed—sort of-but-not-really lay in her bed.

It was the not-really part that let her tease him back. “Where, Ben?”

He patted the mattress in front of him. “Here.”

“Hmm. Why does that not seem like a good idea right now?”

“I don’t know. Why don’t you tell me?”

Should she tell him? “Let me put it this way—just now, I was thinking of predators, how you always have to watch out for them.”

“What if I promise to behave?”

There. _That_ , right there, told her he was thinking exactly the same things she was. Of course he was. She’d sensed his desire almost from the beginning—she just hadn’t wanted to admit any such frightening thing to herself. That a creature in a mask, a _monster_ , wanted her.

She folded her own arm under her head and considered, reminding herself of everything she’d been thinking before he appeared to look at her out of those dark eyes and caress her with that dark voice.

“Maybe another time,” she finally said lightly, not wanting to hurt him.

“When?” he said immediately, obviously taking her literally.

She swallowed a laugh, though she couldn’t say why it was funny. “Oh, maybe like when you’re half-dead from blood loss and a bunch of telepathic predators are terrorizing me out of my mind.”

“That can be arranged,” he said and smiled.

It was a real smile, not a flash he tried to hide. It utterly transformed him. In that moment, she felt she _could_ join him.

The bond winked out and she was alone in her bed again. She didn’t know whether to pound the mattress in frustration or give a sigh of relief.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kylo is a stew-er. Doesn't matter if it's several hours since whatever the thing was that made him mad. He won't forget. :-D


	25. Puzzle Pieces

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Kylo has several astonishing realizations... and an uncomfortable one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And now, without further ado, it's time for the Sparring Trope! 
> 
> Thank you for your wonderful support. It's such a thrill to know you're enjoying my story! I love getting to share it with you.

Jangling ground against her ears. Rey shot upright in bed, fumbling for her staff even as she tried to figure out where she was. Not in her shelter. Not in her hut on Ahch-To. Not in the barn—

The noise came again, grating along her nerves. The ship. She was on the First Order ship they’d taken, and someone was requesting entry to her quarters. She snatched up her staff, dragged a blanket around her and took the few steps to the door. Hitting the control, she stepped to the side and raised her staff, ready in case whoever was out there was hostile.

A droid carrying a covered tray waited outside. Two stormtroopers flanked her door. They nodded to her.

“Ma’am,” one said, the voice belonging to one of those who’d guarded her yesterday. “Kylo Ren has gone planetside to retrieve his ship and gather reinforcements.”

“Reinforcements?”

“Jannessi natives, ma’am,” the trooper said.

 _Nightfolk_ , Rey translated that. She wondered where they were going to put them all. They might feed on fear, but they still had physical bodies that had to eat something and sleep somewhere.

“We’re your escort around the ship, when you’re ready,” he added.

Rey was suddenly very conscious of her mussed hair, bare feet and blanket-wrapped body.

“Um, thanks,” she said.

The droid, bobbing patiently outside her door, spoke up. “Madam. I am personal service droid TO-99. I will be attending you.”

It whirred inside, and the door whisked shut. It deposited the tray on a sort of shelf that slid out from the wall.

“Your meal, madam.”

Rey lifted the cover to inspect it: bread and some pinkish meat, bright red and purple vegetables or fruits. She smiled at the generous portions, thinking of the vision of when she’d been starving for days and had almost given up. Kylo had seen that one, but he didn’t know how many other hungry times there’d been. She didn’t think he’d be happy if he did.

“It appears as though your hair has suffered some damage, madam,” the droid said. “I can rectify that.”

She put a hand to the back of her head. She’d almost forgotten about her lightsaber trim. It felt only a few centimeters long back there, and weirdly stiff and brittle. “I don’t think I want it that short all over.”

“I can display a number of military-approved styles.”

She made a face. “How about unapproved styles?”

“I’m not programmed for that.”

She sighed. She did _not_ want to look like a First Order officer. “Show me. Maybe I can make some changes.”

The droid showed her hairstyles while she ate. It measured her for clothes, since she still wore someone else’s old shirt, too.

 _Kylo did all this_. She couldn’t quite take it in. It was so strange for anyone to think of her comfort, when before no one had ever even cared if she lived or died. Even when she was with Luke, she and Chewie had been left to more or less fend for themselves, if you didn’t count a fish that was too much for one person to eat. And that was probably more for Chewie’s benefit than for hers.

Luke had really not been happy with her coming in and turning his whole world upside down. She felt a little sorry for him now.

But Kylo had obviously given her more than passing thought. It was suddenly hard to take a deep breath.

The droid left. She’d just finished eating when it came back with clothes. Sitting in a chair while it cut her hair, she tried not to wince as the long, dark swathes fluttered down around her. _It grows back_ , she reminded herself. _It’ll be easier to take care of_ , she reassured herself.

Her head felt too light when it was finished. The back of her neck felt cold. Cautiously, she reached up to touch. It seemed like a long way before she met hair.

“Would you like to see, madam?” TO-99 said.

She thought about it. “I’d better, I guess.”

The droid scanned around her and projected a holo. It was a bit of a shock. The style was very short in the back, sweeping longer in the front. It gave the effect of wings. She flipped her head back and forth to see if it would get in her way when fighting. No more than Kylo’s got in his, she decided.

TO-99 seemed to have less personality than a lot of the droids she’d met—which seemed strange for a personal service droid. She still thanked it. It vacuumed up the hair, gathered the dishes and swept out. Rey changed clothes and followed it a few minutes later.

The two stormtroopers turned as she stepped out with her staff.

“Is there anywhere to train on this ship?” she asked.

“Yes, ma’am. But we’re to take you to the medcenter for treatment, first.”

 _Kylo_ , she thought with another pang at her heart.

“Let’s go, then.” How could she not?

The medcenter was just as crowded today as it had been yesterday. It took Rey a second to realize that now the patients were Brightfolk and the human townsfolk from Jannessi. She stopped short, blinked and saw Verrannallu.

“Verrannallu!” she said. “What are you doing here?” She hurried to the healer and hugged her.

“Collecting medical supplies while my most badly injured patients are treated.” Verrannallu gave her a shrewd look. “Your Night—” She caught herself and amended, “Kylo pays his debt.”

Rey looked around at the Jannessi attended by First Order medical personnel. If his attention to her comfort had touched and astonished her, this positively took her breath.

“It was my debt to pay,” Rey grumbled, uncomfortable without knowing why. “I was the one who begged you to help him.”

“It seems his honor tells him otherwise.”

Rey frowned, remembering that particular conversation. “What _was_ all that? When he said his intentions were honorable.”

Verrannallu gave a strange smile. “If you don’t know, girl, it’s not my place to tell you.”

Still frowning, Rey opened her mouth to press further when a medical droid approached and scanned her. “You have moderate to severe internal and external contusions of the throat and neck, as well as multiple lacerations of the hands and arm. Prompt medical attention is recommended in order to avoid complications.”

“Yes, thank you,” Rey said with an embarrassed glance at Verrannallu. “But I’ve already been treated.”

“I couldn’t do much for your throat,” Verrannallu admitted. “Let them see to you.”

“I don’t seem to have much choice,” Rey grumbled, snatching a peek at her stormtrooper escort. What would they have done if she’d refused to come here?

Verrannallu touched her arm, urging her to follow the droid. “Much is changing,” she said quietly. “The _Force_ is changing. Can you feel it?”

Rey shook her head. “Verrannallu, I only learned about the Force when I met Kylo. And I haven’t known Kylo very long at all.”

“Mmm, yes. And Kylo is older and full of much knowledge. Be careful, girl. Night is always hungry.”

Rey froze by the treatment table. “You don’t know him,” she said, struggling to keep her voice calm and even. “He’s not all dark. If you knew how much light is in him—”

“As there is much Night in you,” Verrannallu broke in. “It wasn’t only the link between you I saw. But the Bright in him was very dim, smothered under much darkness. It’s still dim, but now it shines like a star through storm clouds.”

“That light saved me. When the Nightfolk were trying to destroy me.”

“He does much for you. But here, among his kind, he might forget what he learned on Jannessi. He might forget what he owes you.”

Rey bristled. “He doesn’t owe me anything. This isn’t the first time he’s saved my life.”

Verrannallu laid a calming hand on her shoulder. “I mean him no insult. I see he means you well. I see how he protects you. Yet protection can become imprisonment. Never forget that you, too, have power.”

 _I have power_. It was a revolutionary idea, almost inconceivable. She’d fought all her life for the meager illusion of independence, pretending that the Unkar Plutts of her world didn’t hold complete control over her. Now…

Now, she didn’t know. Things had changed so much and so quickly she hadn’t stopped to think what she was, what she could do, where she was going. It was strange to think that she might be able to do more than just struggle against whatever was going on around her.

The droid whirred and clattered about, preparing instruments, then approached, raising a menacing tangle of thin appendages sporting gleaming tips. Rey glanced distractedly at it as it spoke of bacta injections, but the upheaval in her mind was greater than any worry about what it was going to do.

She took the healer’s thin, strong hands. “Thank you, Verrannallu.”

_* * *_

The bond was getting stronger—Kylo was able to sense Rey all the way down on the planet. Her startled alarm had sheared through the quiet of sleep, almost sending him hurtling back into orbit. She quickly calmed, though, and he decided it was only the alarm of waking in a strange place. A whirl of emotions followed: pleasure, dismay, delight, anger, surprise. He amused himself imagining what might’ve caused each. The fact that she’d felt pleasure and delight at all told him he’d done something right.

He was used to a constant presence in his head. He’d grown adept at diverting it, evading it, misleading it. Surprisingly enough, he didn’t want to do any of those things now. He wanted to explore how the bond worked, what they could do. He didn’t allow himself to rush through his business planetside, but he was glad to board the Silencer and return to the _Precursor_.

He climbed out of the fighter, dropped into the familiar noise and activity of a ship’s hangar. Rey had done a respectable job patching the forward deflector and cleaning out the blood, but he was glad to turn the Silencer over to a maintenance crew. It still smelled like something had died in there. He supposed something almost had.

He reached for her through the bond. It took a little exploration to pinpoint her location in the unfamiliar ship: a training room. Of course. He strode to his quarters to change.

The training room door opened to show Rey whirling barefoot with her staff. She’d cut her hair, short enough in back to display an alluring glimpse of neck. The top she wore showed thin, muscled arms crisscrossed and puckered with scars. The scar on her shoulder the Praetorian had given her, still fresh and bright. looked strangely like two hands reaching for each other.

He’d never seen her without long sleeves, or her arm wrappings. Now he knew why she wore them—for protection from what might cut her, whether it was jagged metal or scornful eyes.

To him, she looked like a warrior, the scars badges of survival.

She stopped whirling when he stepped in and turned to the weapons rack by the door. He wore a snug-fitting sleeveless shirt and loose pants, his usual training garb. His lightsaber hung at his side. He felt her gaze on him, a heat running over his skin, across his shoulders, down his arms.

 _So_ , he thought smugly. _Last night’s Force visit wasn’t a fluke_.

Desire had tormented him as he lay in bed, but he’d thought it was only his own. Only after the bond activated and he discovered Rey’s painful embarrassment did he realize with a dizzying combination of shock and glee that he wasn’t alone in his desire.

At the time, it had been hard to convince himself not to do something that might end with her trying to beat him off with her staff. By now, the prospect had grown appealing.

“I’ll join you,” he said, testing practice blades.

She gave a snort he was sure covered awkwardness and confusion. “Right.”

Kylo found a practice sword he liked and twirled it experimentally. Rey recovered quickly, spinning her staff in front of her with a challenging look. He settled into a ready stance, sword raised and waiting. She began circling him. He kept turning to face her as she did.

“Well?” He pointed his sword at her, arm fully extended. “Are you going to fight, or just circle me all day?”

She glared at him. Fighting him, she knew. No awkwardness there at all.

“The last time I fought you, you nearly broke my wrists. It _hurt_.”

“You should’ve dropped your weapon.”

“Oh, right. I should’ve dropped my weapon.”

“I was trying to disarm you. Not kill you.”

“So you could drag me to Snoke? And that would’ve been better?”

“I wasn’t planning on taking you to Snoke.” Even then, he’d begun to have a glimmer of another idea, another possibility.

Still circling, she eyed him.

“I told you I wanted to teach you. Snoke wouldn’t’ve been interested in that.” He lunged at her.

Her staff swung, neatly knocking his blade away, and they were on.

Those jabs and wild slashes that had put her at such a disadvantage when armed with a lightsaber put him at a disadvantage when delivered by the staff. It was an awkward business blocking a straight-on thrust with that much power behind it, and the momentum behind the roundhouse swings that could come at him from either direction jarred _his_ wrist when he parried.

“Ha!” she shouted, grinning.

A certain amount of fierce triumph poured off her, but more joy, like a wild creature running free in the sun. He let it wash over him, oddly content to let her press him. Her joy gradually curdled into annoyance.

“Now who’s not fighting?” she said.

“I’m trying not to _hurt_ you,” he said, his voice dripping false sympathy.

“I’ve taken down bigger bullies than you with my staff,” she growled.

“Oh? Show me.”

Kylo hadn’t been holding back (much), but now he got serious. Using his size and strength against her, he rained down a flurry of blows that drove her back and back. He imagined her pinned between the wall and his body, then quickly banished the image before it leaked through the bond.

She must’ve been using the Force to keep track of her surroundings—just before he pushed her into the wall, she wheeled aside. Ducking under his swing, she came around and whacked him hard across the back. His backhanded slash caught her just above the hip. She yelped in pain and outrage.

“Better?” he panted.

“Not yet.”

She’d figured out his weaknesses, striking with those thrusts to his middle then trying to flip his blade out of his grasp when he blocked and sidestepped. He watched, drawing her in, waiting for her to get overconfident. When she made an aggressive jab, he grabbed the end of her staff with his free hand and yanked hard, pulling her inside his guard. She let the staff slide through her hands just an instant too late. He swung. The tip of his blade caught the side of her neck the same moment she took hold of the staff again and shoved it into his diaphragm hard enough to send out his breath in a pained _oof_.

They hit the mat, him on his back, her twisting to land beside him instead of on top. He’d’ve preferred the latter.

She panted, wisps of hair sticking to her face and neck. “I think we just killed each other.”

“I think we did. Draw?”

She pressed her lips together a moment, then said, “Okay. Draw.”

He rolled to his feet, ready to offer a hand. She sprang up on her own first. She was flushed, sweaty and still had her staff in hand, but he couldn’t stop looking at her. He _felt_ her begin to withdraw, then she straightened and grounded her staff.

“What?” she said.

He caught a flash of the scavenger, the desert survivor in her defiance. One corner of his mouth ticked up. “I need to cool off.”

He turned away before he could see her expression, but she definitely got the innuendo; he felt the same fluster he had last night, when the bond first linked them. _Point to Kylo_ , he thought with satisfaction.

He crossed to a refreshment panel, took out a flask of water and dumped it over his head. Water sluiced off his hair and down his back and chest as he offered her another. An image of her rose in his mind, how she’d looked after cleaning the blood out of his Silencer, her wet clothes clinging to her slim body. They’d revealed only hints of what lay beneath, but enough to make his blood-starved heart lurch in his chest. He dared her with his eyes: _Go on. Do the same_.

She shook her head. “Wasteful,” she said and took a long drink.

“There’s more where that came from,” he said. “It all gets recycled.”

She shook her head again. _Point to Rey_ , he thought ruefully.

He took out another flask of water, sat down on the floor and stretched out his legs. He drank, deliberately avoiding eye contact. After a moment, she settled a little distance away—farther than he liked. He felt like he was trying to lure some wild thing. The darkness in him quivered with anticipation of a hunt. _Shh_ , he told it.

 “I’ll start teaching you sword forms tomorrow,” he said.

“What for? I don’t have a lightsaber.” Her words were neutral enough, but there was a current of resentment there.

“You shouldn’t regret it. Do you know whose weapon that was?”

“Maz said it was Luke’s.”

“Before that. It was his father’s. My grandfather’s.”

Her eyes went wide. “That was _Darth Vader’s_ lightsaber?” She frowned. “But it was blue...”

“Anakin’s. Before he turned to the dark.”

“Oh.” He could see her thinking it through. “You make a new one when you turn to the dark side? What happened to your old one?”

He patted the weapon at his belt. “Right here.”

“But it’s—”

“Red, yes. I bled the crystal. We make it suffer. Make it feel pain.”

He didn’t flinch from her gaze. She didn’t like what she was hearing, but she was curious.

“The kyber crystal in my weapon was already unhappy and confused,” he explained. “It cracked when I tried to bleed it. It’s why the blade is unstable.”

“When I held it,” she said, a little hesitant now, “it felt like it was alive. When I fought the Nightfolk, it almost felt like it did some things on its own.”

“It probably did. It came to you when you called it in the throne room. Snoke didn’t carry a lightsaber. I don’t think he realized the significance of that.”

“What do you mean?”

“Kyber crystals aren’t exactly alive, but they are semi-sentient. You can’t just call someone’s lightsaber. It has to be willing to come to you. Mine was.”

Her mouth formed an O as _she_ realized the significance. “But he called _my_ lightsaber.”

“He was powerful enough overcome the crystal’s will.” Kylo drew up a knee and took another drink. “I’ve been curious. Where did you get it? Anakin’s lightsaber was supposed to’ve been lost.”

“Maz had it. On Takodana,” she added, as if she wasn’t sure if he knew who Maz was.

“And Maz gave it to you.”

“No. It—” She hesitated. He could sense her weighing what she ought to say. “It called to me.”

He straightened, setting down his flask with a thump. “ _What?”_

She gave him a disturbed glance. “I thought I heard someone crying. I went down to the basement of her castle, to a stone hallway full of locked doors. One opened. There was a box at the back of the room, old, made out of wood, like something from a story. I opened it, and the lightsaber was inside.” She stopped.

He didn’t know if the turbulence he felt was hers or his own. “What else?”

“When I touched it—” She paused again, wet her lips. “I had visions. I saw you. I saw the Knights, too, and a fight in the rain, and people getting run through with lightsabers. The vision changed, and I saw you again in a white forest—Starkiller’s forest—and you turned and _looked_ right at me. That’s why I was in the woods, because I was running away from—from those visions. From that lightsaber. And then there _you_ were, with your mask and your lightsaber—” She stopped again.

“Rey—” His mind spun. He could only imagine how frightened and disoriented she must’ve been already before he started stalking her.

She went on in a smaller voice, “That’s why I shot at you. I’d just seen all that and I was scared. The visions were bad, but the real you was so much worse.”

He wanted to comfort her, but another part of his mind was analyzing, questioning.

“I can understand visions of me when you touched my grandfather’s lightsaber,” he said. “But why would it call to you?”

He thought of when he’d caught her, how something in her called to _him_ —

The bond? No, she said she’d found the lightsaber before he’d even seen her. There was no bond then. Then why—?

“I thought it was because I was supposed to find Luke and give it back to him,” she said. “But he didn’t want it. When I tried to give it to him, he threw it over the side of a cliff.”

Kylo clenched his fists. Not for the sheer insulting stupidity of the action, but for how it must’ve made Rey feel after all she’d been through, after everything she’d done to find Luke.

“That sounds about right,” he said.

She shrugged, then drank. Deliberately avoiding his gaze, he thought. Not withdrawing, though—the distance felt somehow calming, like she was giving him space after talking about Luke. Space was exactly what he _didn’t_ want.

He drank, too, accepting that calm into him. He turned it over, let the dark power in him toy with it, shape it into what he wanted.

 _Closer_ , Kylo thought, the softest breath in the Force. Rey froze, her flask half-raised, then drew up a knee and shifted onto one hip, leaning toward him.

 _Closer_ , he thought again. The word echoed in his mind, but not in his own voice.

In Snoke’s.

 _Closer, I said_. With that deceptively gentle purr. Then Snoke had _touched_ her—

Kylo jerked his intent away from the Force so quickly he lost all connection with his surroundings, even with Rey. In his turmoil, he almost missed her sudden frown.

 _Closer_. Snoke had felt it, too. _Snoke_. Watching through his lashes as he knelt, Kylo remembered his own reaction in the throne room. The powerful, visceral _No!_ that ripped through him before he tamped it down. Snoke hadn’t sensed it, preoccupied with Rey. How could he not be? When confronted with her formidable light, he wanted to control, devour, destroy.

But that wasn’t what the Force wanted.

Kylo knew what the Force wanted, because it constantly beat in him. The Force wanted wholeness, completion.

It wanted _joining._

The dark side didn’t understand union. Only division, destruction. It couldn’t help but interpret a need to unite as a need to conquer. And the light would, of course, fight back to protect itself.

He huffed a breath of astonished realization.

Rey was up on her knees beside him, her hand on his shoulder. “Ben? What’s wrong?”

He could hear the worry in her voice, feel it curling through her.

“I— Just…thinking.”

She frowned again but didn’t remove her hand. He imagined it glowing against his skin, pouring light into dark places. “About what?”

“Remembering. Snoke.”

“Oh.” She relaxed, settled cross-legged exactly where he’d wanted her. “Don’t think about him. He’s not worth it.”

He looked down at her, close enough he could tuck his arm around her if he decided to. “He might be, this time.”

“Mmm?” she said encouragingly.

He laid his hand on her folded knee. Only after he had, did he realize what he’d done. He kept it there, anyway. _Don’t run away. You don’t have to_. Did she sense that from him? Maybe. She stayed where she was.

“About training,” he said. “What we’re taught about the Force, the dark side and the light. You’ve had no training. And you use them equally.”

She stiffened. “I do n—!”

He gripped her knee lightly, to quiet her. “All right, not equally. But you aren’t hesitant to use the dark side.”

“Luke said—” She broke off.

“Go on,” he said quietly. It was easy. The usual rage didn’t boil up.

She frowned, laid her hand on his, as if for comfort or steadiness. “When I saw the cave under the island the first time. In a vision. It pulled me in. That was when Luke said I scared him. ‘You went straight to the dark,’ he said. ‘And you didn’t even try to stop yourself.’” She sent Kylo a troubled look. “But I’d just seen how the Force is _everything_.” She lifted her hand to make an encompassing gesture, then laid it back on his. “Why should I have stopped myself?”

 _Yes!_ he wanted to shout. But that would startle her, and she was still feeling her way through things she didn’t understand.

“Why does that make you happy?”  Her voice darkened. “I’m not turning—”

“No. Not that,” he said quickly. “I wonder the same thing. When I trained as a Jedi, it was drummed into me to resist the dark, to be calm, not to _feel_. When I went to Snoke, I had to struggle against the light, against my humanity. I’ve spent my whole life _fighting_ myself—”

This time it was her fingers that tightened on his to quiet him. “Why?”

“Why. Exactly.”

“You don’t know?”

“I know what I was taught. I’ve thought for a long time it was wrong.”

Rey sat back with a huff. “Oh, well, that’s great.”

He held back a smile. “What do you think I’ll teach you, Rey?”

She made a noise like _nnggh_ and slid him a look. “You taught me to heal. You taught me to give people light.”

He did almost smile then. _Finally!_ Finally, she teased him back. It only took almost dying to do it. Or maybe only being unthreatening. He was perfectly aware that people found him intimidating, if not outright terrifying. Usually, it was an asset.

“I did.” He shifted a little, so their shoulders touched companionably. “I told you I don’t understand what’s happened. We’ll both have to muddle through this.”

“I guess so.” She leaned against him.

He closed his eyes, letting his awareness linger on her hand on his, where skin touched skin along their arms, cool and still slick with sweat or water.

It was so much better when it was something she chose on her own.

“Thank you,” she said eventually. “For what you did for Tam. For bringing the people from Jannessi to the medcenter here.”

He felt her gratitude, the way the gesture affected her, softened and turned her toward him. _I can use this, he told himself._

The truth bubbled uncomfortably to the surface _._ He’d do most anything to make her feel that way again.


	26. Into Darkness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Kylo makes a Very Serious Mistake.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: Threats of interpersonal physical violence. No one is hurt. Canon-typical violence  
> Also some mushy stuff. :-)

To her surprise, Rey discovered that she had full access to the ship’s databanks. She sat on her bed, a datapad on her knee, browsing them.

The cruiser was called the _Precursor_. As she’d thought, it _was_ old, but not as old as the wrecks on Jakku. It was assigned to the First Order Security Bureau, and the mission was what Dare had said it was: to track down and kill Kylo, her, and any possible confederates.

She wondered if he was insulted that an old ship with such limited weapons and troop complements had been sent after them.

 _They didn’t really expect to find us_ , she thought.

And now that they had…

 _Tell your commander ‘mission accomplished_ ,’ Kylo had told Dare. To her, he’d said, _Now we have a toehold. A way to fight back_. The _Precursor_ obviously wouldn’t be returning to the First Order with its prize. So…what did Kylo have planned?

Worry bloomed in the pit of her stomach. She put down the datapad and crossed to the door.

Rey tracked Kylo through the bond to a room behind another door in another corridor. She palmed the controls, ready to reach out with the Force if the door didn’t open.

She was surprised again when it did, opening on a large room dominated by a gleaming black table emblazoned with the First Order insignia in red. The officers at the table turned. Voices sputtered to a halt.

Kylo looked up at her and nodded an invitation. It seemed the _Precursor’s_ stores hadn’t been able to replace his tunic, so he wore a First Order officer’s shirt and high-collared black uniform jacket. The hassash sat on his shoulder. It chirped at her and showed its mouthful of sharp teeth.

Rey froze for a moment, taking in the change in Kylo, determined not to be intimidated. She stepped inside and made a circuit of the room to him. Dare was there, too, no longer in stormtrooper’s armor but in a cap and white, close-fitting jacket. His presence told her he was someone more important than just another stormtrooper. He nodded and gave her a slight smile.

Eyes burned into her. She sensed curiosity and surprise, but no hostility, Kylo’s response apparently making it clear she was welcome. It didn’t feel right to sit at the table with the officers in their crisp uniforms, so she only stood behind Kylo.

She felt a brief flare of irritation from him—was she supposed to sit at the table after all? She wasn’t going to make herself any more conspicuous than she already was. Maybe _he_ was used to power, but _she_ wasn’t. In her experience, keeping a low profile went a long way toward staying alive.

“My partner, Rey,” Kylo said with a lift of a black-gloved hand.

So much for a low profile. The looks she got this time ranged from shrewd assessment to outright alarm. She was suddenly grateful for her First Order trousers and jacket and haircut. She followed Dare’s example of a brief nod and hint of a smile, working to keep her posture relaxed.

“Continue,” Kylo said to the men at the table.

“Peavy on the _Finalizer_ would be one of your better candidates,” an officer said, a thin, bald man with a blade of a nose. “He despises Hux. It would be a fine irony, but at this stage, taking on the Supreme Leader’s flagship might be a bit audacious.”

Through the bond, Rey felt a surge of rage. “The _Supreme Leader_. Of course.” He cocked his head. “I assume his fleet is commanded by loyalists? How many destroyers?”

“Yes, sir, and six, in addition to the _Finalizer_.” The man rattled off names that meant nothing to Rey.

“All the rabid curs in one kennel,” Kylo sneered. “Hux might find it comforting, but it’s bad strategy.”

“That it is, sir,” Dare said. “He’s scattered those he deems less loyal to the Outer Rim and the Reaches. There are two stationed near Rakata that we’ve been keeping an eye on. Shiv Arkady commanding the _Raptor_ and Orlen Vach of the _Relentless._ Arkady’s made no secret of the fact that he thinks the destruction of the Hosnian system was a strategic blunder. Vach has a mind like a computer sim. Cold as space. He thinks Hux’s fanaticism is a weak link that can bring down the First Order.”

“Does he, now?” Kylo said, sitting back. “Rakata,” he said thoughtfully. Through the bond, he was more than thoughtful—he was positively gleeful. “Then they won’t be surprised when those destroyers disappear.”

“No, sir,” Dare said. “I think that’s the point.”

Rey’s stomach clenched as Verrannallu’s words replayed in her mind: _Among his kind, he might forget what he learned on Jannessi_.

No, he couldn’t. They’d _turned_ these people away from the First Order. They saw something better now. If they only started doing the same things—

She shifted, suddenly desperate to talk to Kylo. The hassash turned to look up at her, laid a small hand on her arm and crooned softly. She leaned back just enough that it couldn’t touch her easily. It gave her a reproachful look, then stretched toward her. It grabbed her sleeve and pulled itself onto her. Rey set her teeth as it climbed up to her shoulder, forcing herself to remember when it had tried to defend her after they’d taken the ship.

It knew. It _knew_ she wouldn’t do anything while she had an audience. The creature settled, smoothing her hair and crooning into her ear.

She glared at it. _That isn’t helping,_ she thought at it.

It only made a chuckling noise and nuzzled into her hair.

If the hassash meant to distract her from the discussion around her, it was succeeding. What she followed was only strategy and logistics, most of which would’ve gone over her head, anyway.

At last, chairs slid back. A low buzz of conversation broke out between pairs and small groups. The emotions flowing through the Force were positive—eagerness, anticipation, a sense of purpose. Kylo stood too, exchanging a few words with the officers who passed him.

Dare caught her eye across the table and nodded again. “Ma’am. Good to see you again,” he said and joined the general outbound flow.

After his acknowledgement, a few others nodded at her as well. Rey blinked, knocked off balance by the strangeness of it all. The door finally slid closed on the last officer.

Kylo turned to her, clearly waiting for whatever she had to say. The hassash finally—finally!—let go, leapt lightly to the table and spidered between glasses, caf cups and mostly-empty carafes of water.

“You want me to do what I did on this ship on _two star destroyers?”_ she said. “You might as well have left me to the Nightfolk!”

“It won’t be as bad as it sounds. You’ll only need to work on the command. Everyone else will follow orders.”

“ _Only_ the command. Do you have any idea what you’re asking? Do you know what it’s like, to…to…” She ground the heels of her hands against her eyes.

“Battle meditation was traditionally used to strengthen allies—or weaken enemies.”

She dropped into a chair. “That’s not what I’m doing!”

“No. You’re turning enemies to allies.” Kylo sat down, too, studying her intently. “Show me what you do.”

She looked into his eyes where he sat almost knee to knee with her, opened herself and reached into his mind the way she had into Dare’s, on Jannessi.

In his dreams, she’d been a participant, then as Kylo himself. In this vision, she was only a witness.

“Stop that!” a child’s voice shouted, rough with emotion.

Kylo—no, Ben—was a child about the same age Rey had been when she found her Imperial walker. Nine? Ten? Fists clenched, black brows drawn down, he stood facing a bigger boy in green woods lighter and more open than the woods on Takodana had been.

The other boy jerked around. Something in front of him was making a painful keening sound. The startled guilt on his face changed to a sneer when he saw Ben. “Stop what? This?”

The boy deliberately moved to show what lay at his feet—a small, floppy-eared creature he had pinned to the ground by its tail. Grinning, the boy viciously whacked the animal with the stick he held, then skewered it to the ground when it fell. It screamed, twisting and lunging against the stick.

“I said stop that!” Ben shouted, taking an aggressive step nearer.

“Or what? What’re you gonna do, Prince?”

Ben stormed over and shoved the other boy hard enough to make him stagger back. The injured animal only flopped weakly to escape as Ben grappled for the stick. The bigger boy wrenched it out of his grasp and struck Ben, once, twice, again, hard enough the sound of wood hitting flesh echoed through the woods. Ben didn’t cry out. Fury blazed over his face and he raised his hand.

The other boy flew up and back, screaming in terror. He slammed into a branch about two meters up and fell. He hit the ground hard and lay still. Rey bit her lip to keep from crying out herself, shocked at how powerful Ben was even so young.

He stalked over to the boy, bent down and studied him. He turned his head once, as if someone had spoken to him. Rey had a sick feeling she knew whose voice he’d heard.

“He’s alive,” he muttered without any particular inflection. “That’s— Oh. Yes. I didn’t think of that.” He commanded, “ _Look at me_.”

The boy’s eyes snapped open in his pale, sweaty face. He was panting and whimpering, echoing the poor, hurt creature writhing on the ground a short distance away.

“When they ask you what you did,” Ben said, “ _you tell the truth_. No lying.” He was breathing hard now, too. “Tell me what happened. _Say it_ ,” he commanded.

The boy’s breaths were ragged and loud, his eyes wide and terrified. “I was torturing the squall.”

Ben bent over him. Rey could see the echo of the man in the boy’s menace. “Say what you did.”

“Please,” the boy whimpered.

Ben grabbed the front of his shirt and yanked him up. The bigger boy screamed.

“ _Say it!”_

“I stomped on the squall’s tail and beat it and stabbed it with a stick! It screamed. I liked hearing it scream. I wanted to hear you scream when I hit you!”

Ben dropped him. The boy sobbed with pain and terror.

“I can kill you,” Ben said in a voice all the more frightening for its quiet. “Next time, maybe I will. If there is a next time.”

He turned and walked back to the injured animal, knelt and smoothed its dappled brown fur where it wasn’t dark with blood. It still moved weakly, a soft whine coming from it with every breath. Ben laid a gentle hand over its floppy-eared head. It breathed out once and didn’t move again.

The vision changed. Kylo—yes, _Kylo_ now, in his robes and mask—grown to his full height, but slim and whippy, without the mass and muscle yet. Maybe close to her own age now?

Hand outstretched, he stood over a line of people kneeling before him—three men, two women and three children, all bound. Two of the children sobbed in terror. The other, a young girl, stared stony-faced at the ground.

They were outside somewhere, at nighttime. The sound of screams came from a distance. The roar of fire was much closer, the flames turning stormtroopers’ armor a flickering red, fingering the fearful faces of the crowd gathered under their blasters.

Looming over the tableau was a towering holo of Snoke lounging on his monolithic throne. It cast the prisoners in eerie blue light, reflected off the chrome of Kylo’s mask. Rey shivered.

Kylo straightened, dropping his hand. One man collapsed onto his side, whimpering.

“This is all of them.” The vocabulator distorted Kylo’s voice. The sound of it made Rey’s stomach clench in remembered terror. “A brother and sister. Not much of a rebel cell.”

Rey looked at the little group again, going cold. A brother and sister—and their families.

“Such a pity,” Snoke said. “I’d hoped for something more…spectacular. Nevertheless, everything can be made to serve a purpose. Kill them,” he said with a negligent wave of the hand. “The children first.”

A cry went up from the from the adults, even from many in the crowd.

Kylo’s mask snapped up. “Master, the children—”

“Do you question me, apprentice?” Snoke purred.

Kylo hesitated. “No, Master. I only want to understand—”

“The question is your commitment to me. To the dark side.”

Kylo’s masked face turned to the pleading prisoners. The children, seeing the anguished adults, started to scream. Rey saw— _felt_ —Kylo shrink back.

“You’re the focal point of the light and the dark,” Snoke said, softer than ever, almost mesmerizing. “The light grips you too tightly, Kylo Ren, holds you back. To realize your full potential, you must embrace the dark.”

“Anger,” Kylo whispered. “Pain. Power. But—”

“And what greater power than that over life and death?” Snoke purred. “Mercy, sentiment, compassion—these weaken you. The dark will give you strength.” Another languid motion of clawed, twisted fingers. “Proceed. This will be a lesson long remembered.”

Kylo ignited his lightsaber, took a step, hesitated. The prisoners wailed. Two of the women lurched for the children, screaming. Kylo’s other hand snapped up, fingers spread. He made a snatching motion, closing his fist.

The entire group flopped bonelessly to the ground. Dead.

The holo of Snoke shot to its feet. “ _YOU!”_ he roared. “You dare defy _ME,_ boy?”

He thrust out a hand. Kylo arched backward. His lightsaber flew from his hand. He screamed—

A force thrust her away so hard Rey lost contact with her senses. Blind, deaf, buried so deep in her own mind she had no sense of her body, she struggled, panicking.

She came back to herself, to the ship’s meeting room. Kylo’s face was inches from hers, his eyes blazing like they had in Starkiller’s forest.

He gripped her face between his hands. “Don’t— _ever_ —do that—again,” he snarled, giving her a shake with each word.

Rey grabbed his wrists and tore away, wheeling out of her chair. He towered to his feet after her. She snatched a carafe off the table. Glass flew with a shivering crash as she broke it on the edge and put the chair between them.

“I did what you told me!” She brandished the broken bottle. “You wanted to see what I do, so I showed you!”

The rage on Kylo’s face drained away. He straightened from his threatening hunch. “That was what—?” Realization dawned. “Rey. I’m sorry.” He took a step toward her.

She slashed with the bottle. “Keep away from me!”

He stopped and raised his hands. “Please, Rey. I didn’t mean— I’m sorry. Sit down. Please.”

Calm trickled through the bond. “Don’t!” She slammed up her mental shields. “Don’t you dare. Don’t you _touch_ me!”

The hassash crouched on the table, whining miserably as its eyes flicked between them. Kylo shuddered out a breath and closed his eyes. When he opened them again, that bottomless patience of his welled up. After his outburst, it felt like a lie.

“Use the Force if you’re going to fight me,” he said. “You can throw anything you like without getting near me.”

“It won’t matter how close I get when I open up your throat!”

His calm crumbled. “Rey, please. What do you want me to do?” he pleaded. “Tell me what to do.”

She clutched the broken bottle like a blade and gripped the back of the chair, ready to shove it at him. “Why did you do that?” she demanded. “Tell me why. I want to know.”

His eyes pleaded. “I didn’t want you to see what I’ve done.”

“You think I haven’t seen every evil thing people can do to each other?”

“I don’t want you to see every evil thing _I’ve_ done!”

Her fury wavered. She lowered her makeshift weapon but watched him. The hassash edged cautiously closer. She glanced at it and it stopped.

“You caught me by surprise,” he said into her silence. “I was expecting something else. Not having my darkness dredged up.”

Her mind was still closed, but she could see desperation in his eyes.

“It was like what Snoke did to you, wasn’t it?”

He dropped his gaze. “That isn’t why I pushed you away.”

“But that didn’t help.” Adrenaline was draining out of her and she could think again. “I made you feel—” _helpless_. Some powerful instinct made her swallow that. “—like Snoke did. Torturing you.” Pain twisted in her chest. “I was starved. I got beaten till I was able to fight back. But nobody ever tortured me.”

“Don’t,” he flared, his eyes blazing into hers again. “Don’t pity me.”

“Don’t start another fight, Kylo,” she snapped back. “I’m telling you I understand. If you can’t take that, there’s no point to this.”

He stared at her a moment, then nodded. “Let’s try again.”

“Are you going to blow up again?”

Another stare, this one cooler. “You haven’t seen me blow up. But if you’re worried…”

He unclipped his lightsaber from his belt and offered it.

Rey eyed it. “After I just threatened to slash your throat?”

“You won’t do anything.” It wasn’t a dismissive statement, but one of trust.

She thought about it, then decided she definitely didn’t want to see any blowing up that involved a lightsaber. She edged close enough to take it from his hand then stepped back again.

“Do what you did before,” he said. “I’ll be expecting it this time.”

Rey just stood, distrust bubbling like something poisonous in her. It didn’t help that the hassash was creeping closer again, still whining in that pitiful way.

“You have my lightsaber,” Kylo reminded her.

Her instincts told her to get out, to get away, it wasn’t safe, she couldn’t trust him. She forced herself to remember everything he’d done since Snoke’s throne room. So many things, so much more than one brief moment when she’d provoked his defenses by making him feel helpless and ashamed.

She pushed out a breath and opened herself again.

He was right—she _didn’t_ want to see every evil thing he’d done. The old man flinging up his arms in a futile protective gesture the instant before Kylo’s lightsaber slashed down. Commander Dameron screaming in agony as Kylo ripped information from his mind. A First Order control room slashed to molten slag in his rage. The _Raddus’_ bridge blinking on the Silencer’s targeting screen as his thumb poised over the trigger.

Sick and cringing, Rey sifted through it all, searching for that glimmering star Verrannallu had spoken of.

It was almost horrifying how hard it was to find. There was so much darkness, so much pain and hate and rage. She didn’t know how he bore it, much less how he found the means to treat her with gentleness and care.

 _There_ —a flicker of glowing light. She followed it down, down…

A pulse of hope, a fragile dream. She reached for it, gathered it to her, poured her light over it until it unfurled.

Green grass and trees. Gentle hills and the glitter of sunlight on water, the smell of growing things, the fresh sweetness of flowers. People in fine clothes, only indistinct blurs of faces and forms—this was a dream, after all, not memory.

Kylo stood at the center of it all, wearing a formal black coat that fell past his knees, picked out with sparks of silver and pearl. Rey faced him wearing a shimmering dress that flowed behind her like a river under a twilight sky. He held her hands as a woman beside them intoned words, his face so full of…of…

She didn’t know what. She’d never _seen_ a look like that before. All she knew was that it made her heart turn over in her chest. When the woman fell silent, Kylo bent his head toward Rey. She raised her face to his and they kissed.

She _felt_ it—the softness and warmth of his lips on hers, the slight scratch of stubble against her chin, the press of his fingers on hers. His scent swirled around her, rich and dark. That hungry warmth woke in her again. She tightened her hands on his—

Rey dragged herself back into the meeting room in the First Order ship. Kylo stood in front of her now, holding her hands as he had in the vision. His eyes were very dark, as dark as they’d been last night in their Force connection. Her heart was thundering.

She realized they held his lightsaber between their hands. She relaxed her grip and would’ve stepped back, but his other hand tightened on hers, preventing her.

He watched her. Half her brain was screaming alarms at her, reminding her of all the awful things she’d seen. The other half still saw that speaking look in his eyes in the vision, felt his lips on hers, wanted to know what that kiss felt like in reality. She ended up frozen, goosebumps running over her skin and her breaths coming much too fast.

“That was potent,” he said, his voice rough.

She didn’t know what to say. She didn’t know what to _think_. For a dream of _her_ to be the star that gleamed through his storm clouds, a dream like _that_ …

Kylo had the bond shut tight. His eyes… She couldn’t read them, either, but she thought she saw dismay or vulnerability and a hint of what might’ve been fear. After his reaction a minute ago, alarm started to rattle in her.

“I wasn’t trying to turn you!” she burst out, trying to pull away.

He wouldn’t let her. He clipped his weapon back on his belt, took both her hands between his and pulled them to his chest. “You can’t,” he said gently. “But if you could, that might’ve done it.”

“I _wasn’t_ ,” she insisted. She hadn’t been. And why hadn’t it even occurred to her?

“I know. Rey—” He stopped with a visible effort.

“What?”

He hesitated, a long moment that made it hard to breathe.

“I know why the battle meditation is so hard on you.”

Something in her plummeted with disappointment.

“Okay,” she said.

“Sit down.”

The chairs and table were still sprinkled with broken glass. She abruptly realized he must’ve taken away the carafe she’d threatened him with—it wasn’t in sight. She let him guide her into a chair a little distance away. He sat opposite. The hassash tip-toed through the glass and came to crouch by her elbow, its three purple eyes watching her anxiously as it whined softly.

Kylo leaned an elbow on the table, his hand dangling near her knee. “How did you know to try it?”

Her face heated. “From you. From what you did when the Nightfolk had me, when you…you gave me your light.” It was such an intimate thing, it was hard to talk about. She hadn’t realized _how_ intimate until now. She took a breath and went on. “But with other people… I don’t want to give them _my_ light. So I look for theirs.”

He nodded, understanding. She was glad she didn’t have to explain more clearly.

“In the process,” he said, “you’re taking in the darkness of those you’re trying to turn. That isn’t necessary.”

“I have to search for y—their light. How else can I find it?”

He sat back, thoughtful for a moment. “I told you battle meditation is a rare ability. I only know what I’ve read in the archives.”

Rey listened intently.

“It’s described as the ability to enhance the morale of one’s own troops, make them feel unbeatable. It was supposed to allow the coordination of troops and fleets, so that all acted as a single, unified entity.”

“Oh,” she said, stunned. She frowned. “That’s not what I do.”

“No.” He leaned forward. “But you could.”

She gave him a sharp look. She did _not_ like where this was going. “I only want to know how to find people’s hope without—without drowning in the rest.”

She didn’t like the speculative look in his eye the moment before he answered. “I don’t think necessary that you _find_ their hope. You only have to share your conviction that it’s there. Give the Force your intention. Not enter the minds of the people you’re trying to influence.”

“So…these two ships you’re talking about. I can just…let people see they have hope. Other choices.”

“I believe so, yes.”

Kylo still had himself shuttered, but there was an avid light in his eyes. Watching him, she calculated. You needed resources to survive, and she wasn’t naïve enough to believe one second-string cruiser would be proof against a determined First Order. Her brief time with the Resistance had shown her what that was like. Maybe that was why she’d slid right in with them—because their scrambling desperation had felt so well-worn and familiar.

“I want to make sure,” she said.

“I’ll work with you.”

“Kylo—”

That hunger disappeared from his eyes. “What happened a few minutes ago— I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.”

No one would ever believe her if she told them _Kylo Ren_ had said he was sorry. It abruptly occurred to her that he’d said it several times already.

“I’m sorry I threatened to cut your throat,” she said quietly.

“You were frightened.”

“I wasn’t _frightened_ ,” she said.

 “Admit it,” he said, annoyed, “Or did you threaten me for no reason?”

The hassash made a dry, chuckling sound. Before she knew what it was doing, it had clambered up to her shoulder, one of its hands resting on her bare neck. She shivered involuntarily.

“Okay, you scared me.” She broke from Kylo’s gaze. “I thought you were going to…to hurt me.”

“I will never hurt you, Rey.”

She took a breath to remind him of when he bounced her off a tree on Starkiller.

He must’ve remembered the same thing. “Never again,” he corrected himself.

She started to tell him if he did, she’d get him. She looked at the scar she’d given him and decided he already knew.


	27. Illumination

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which understandings are come to and the hassash engages in a devious conspiracy.

The door whisked shut behind Rey and the hassash—Kylo had silently urged the creature to stay with her.

He dropped his gaze to the broken glass scattered across the table, on the chairs and floor. He thought of the fear in her eyes the instant before she tore away from him. Then the look from the forest, when she’d been fighting a monster for her life.

Fighting _him_. For her _life_.

She’d watched him murder his own father in cold blood. That was bad enough. Now she knew that was only the last and most heinous act of a lifetime of heinous acts.

Rage and shame swept over him, a strangling burn in his chest. He jerked his lightsaber from his belt. It ignited with a snarl of red sparks. He swept it up, hissing and crackling—

The vision she’d unearthed from the deepest places in his heart rolled over him, flooding him with unexpected warmth, hope, possibility. The rage shimmering across his sight faded. He blinked, found his lightsaber still poised over his head for a vicious swing. _Many_ vicious swings.

He slowly lowered the weapon. It would be incredibly foolish to give Rey concrete evidence of what she’d seen in visions. Nor would the _Precursor’s_ crew find encouraging a meeting room reduced to shambles.

He shifted his thumb to deactivate the lightsaber, then paused. Why did it feel _different?_

It was as unstable as ever, but it felt…what? Less angry. More focused. A consequence of Rey carrying it for those days, wielding it more than once? He shook his head slightly. No, it had seemed just as it had always been when he carried it through the warrens of the Nightfolk. This was new.

He narrowed his eyes, studying the ragged red blade. Did it _look_ different, too? The red not quite as bloody? With a gesture, he turned off the room’s lights. The blade’s glow struck red sparks from the shards of broken glass, etched the table and chairs in red lines out of darkness.

 _There,_ something… He looked directly at the blade. No. No different. He looked away—

Wait. There it was again. A ghost of blue light. He fixed his gaze on the blade and it vanished again.

Blue? His weapon had been blue before he bled the crystal.

No. Impossible. It must be a trick of the eyes. Or some aftereffect of Rey’s peculiar form of battle meditation.

 _Rey_ —

He waved the lights back on, thumbed off his lightsaber and clipped it to his belt. Cautiously, he opened himself to the bond. He sensed upset, and like a mutter of distant thunder, fear.

Bracing his hands on the edge of the glass-sprinkled table, he hung his head.

He should’ve stopped her. He shouldn’t have let her see any more than she had at first. Why had he let her continue?

He knew perfectly well why: because he couldn’t bear to have her look at him again the way she had in the forest. He had to do something to mend her trust, to show her that she could do what she liked and he wouldn’t turn on her.

 _Stupid. Stupid, stupid_.

He gusted a breath and tapped the comm, connecting through to the _Precursor’s_ captain. “This is Kylo Ren. Lock down all hangars. Flight clearances are to go through me until we go to hyperspace.”

“Yes, sir,” Captain Seddik acknowledged, surprise and curiosity tinging his voice.

Kylo shut off the comm and straightened, hoping he’d be able to calm things before she discovered she couldn’t get off the ship.

* * *

Rey couldn’t get rid of the hassash. She’d stopped in the corridor outside the meeting room and tried pushing the idea at it that it needed to go back to Kylo. It only chirped and blinked inquisitively at her. She would _not_ go into its mind. She’d had enough of darkside minds over the last day or so.

Now in another corridor, she stopped again and turned her head to look it in the eyes. “It’s time to go,” she said, using the Force. “You have to get off me.”

One of its hands crossed her collarbone, two more clutched her sleeve. She took hold of the first, peeled it away, then reached across to untangle the other two. Two of the hands behind her shoulders clung more tightly. The fingers of the third wound into her hair. She pulled. The hassash hung on, making strange meeping sounds as if pleading.

She stopped pulling, fighting a rising fear that chanted, _get out, get out, get away_ …

The visions came rushing back. She breathed, wrestling them down. It was hard. She couldn’t tell herself they weren’t real, because they _were_.

She knew Kylo had done terrible things. She’d seen the worst one with her own eyes. But to see it all laid out like that, killing after killing, brutality after brutality, a pit of darkness she’d almost despaired of finding the bottom of—that was harder than being subjected to the darkness of every crew member on the _Precursor_.

Because it was _Kylo_ , who cared for her, who understood her, who respected her, taught her…

And had been ruthlessly honest with her from the very beginning. This—letting her see how deep his darkness went—was only more of the same. She shouldn’t—shouldn’t—

Rey realized she still stood in the corridor. The hassash stroked her hair, crooning softly in her ear. The clash of boots on steel came from behind her—four stormtroopers. She could feel their attention on her, a curl of uneasiness and suspicion. She pushed reassurance through the Force, the sense that she was no threat, that she had a right to be here. One or two of them nodded at her as they passed.

She began moving again with no real idea of where she was going. She turned a corner. Coming the opposite direction were two TIE pilots in their black flight suits, their insectoid helmets under their arms. Their eyes flicked to her. She nodded as she passed, waited until they turned the corner she just had and turned and followed.

They led her, of course, to a hangar, noisy with equipment and voices as techs worked on the ships, busy with pilots coming on or off duty. Rey scanned the docked ships, ticking off their capabilities in her mind. Troop transports and line TIEs—neither had hyperdrive. The command shuttle would. The light shuttles—they were a newer ship. She wasn’t sure about them. The Special Forces TIEs did, but everything she’d read said TIE fighters weren’t easy to fly.

The command shuttle, then. That would be best.

The hassash burrowed its face into her hair and gave a broken whine. She glanced at it. For some reason, an image of Kylo came when he’d pleaded with her: _What do you want me to do? Tell me what to do_. That look of desperate, naked vulnerability. The same look after she’d seen…everything.

She clenched her jaw and rubbed her forehead. After a long moment, she turned and left the hangar. She needed to think about this.

_* * *_

The ship gave a slight lurch, then the pulse of the hyperdrive vibrated through the deck.

 _Good_ , Rey thought, relief unspooling through her. She didn’t want to question _why_ it was good.

She eyed the hassash where it sat on her bed. She’d thought about finding Kylo and asking him to _please_ take it away, but didn’t think she was up to a conversation with him yet. So she’d changed into her sleep shirt and shorts in the ‘fresher. It was just a little Night creature, but absolute refusal had shot through her at the thought of letting it see her undressed.

“You are not sleeping on my bed,” she said.

It kneaded a spot at the foot of the bed then folded itself into a neat bundle topped with three purple eyes.

“No. Off.”

It blinked and made a questioning burble.

She grabbed the edge of the blanket and shook it. “Off. _Now_.”

Its little hands slid out from under it and gripped the blanket.

Rey closed her eyes. “If you’re going to stay there, I’ll sleep on the floor. I swear I will. It won’t be the first time.”

The hassash scuttled off the bed.

“Good. Thank you.” She waited until it settled on her clothes chest, then slid under the covers.

She was just trying to decide whether or not to turn down the lights with the creature there when the Force gathered, a pressure against her nerves, pushing away and silencing the room around her. Rey sighed and folded an arm over her eyes, delaying the moment she had to acknowledge his presence. She finally lowered her arm to find Kylo, wearing a sleeveless shirt and loose pants, sitting on the edge of her bed.

He regarded her with a dark, somber gaze. She studied him back then curled on her side. Somehow, their positions—her lying down, him sitting so close—reminded her how big he was.

“I don’t understand how this works,” she finally said conversationally. “The mattress is squashed and the blanket is bunched tight like you’re really sitting on it. What’s it like on your end?”

He reached out a hand, laid it on the point of her hip. His fingers tightened, testing through the blanket. She caught a breath she hoped he didn’t notice.

“Like you’re lying under my covers.” He removed his hand, placing it on one bulky thigh.

Yes, he noticed.

“It’s getting stronger, isn’t it?” she said. “The bond. It must be, for it to seem like you’re really here.”

“Yes,” he said.

She wasn’t sure what to think about that.

“Where did you go?” he said. “After you left me.”

“I just…wandered around.”

He didn’t say anything.

“I went to one of the hangars and looked at the ships,” she admitted.

His mouth tightened.

“Don’t look at me like that! I’m still here, aren’t I?”

“I don’t want you to feel that way, Rey.”

“I don’t.” She bit her lip and added, “Usually. I think it was mostly habit.”

“It isn’t a habit you need to have with _me_.”

 _I hope not_. She didn’t say it. It felt too much like admitting weakness.

“I want to show you something.” He held out his hand.

 _Oh_. A vision, then. She hesitated.

“It isn’t terrible,” he promised.

“Okay.” She rolled up onto an elbow and took his hand.

Rey was back in the woods from the first vision. She caught her breath. A twenty-years-younger Han Solo knelt in front of her—no, in front of Ben. She wasn’t witnessing now but seeing through his eyes. Leia stood nearby, talking to an official-looking woman. A cluster of medics worked busily under the tree where Ben had thrown the cruel boy. Chewie stood guard, bright blue eyes watching everything. The official-looking woman kept nervously eyeing the Wookie.

“Listen, kid,” Han said, “if you break the back of every sadistic little bastard you run into, half the galaxy’ll be in repulsor chairs.”

“ _I’d’ve ripped his arms off_ ,” Chewie roared. “ _He wouldn’t do any tormenting after that_.”

“Uncle Chewie thinks I did the right thing,” Ben said defensively.

Han glared up at Chewie. “You’re not helping, fuzzball.”

“ _Too bad_ ,” Chewie grunted. “ _Sadistic bastards need to be in repulsor chairs—or have their arms torn off_.”

The vision winked out and she was back in her quarters. Having seen Han so unexpectedly, the backs of her eyes ached with tears even as she wanted to laugh at Han being…Han. Just as suddenly, she realized how hard it had to’ve been on Kylo. Yet he was willing to give her this.

He let go of her hand. “I’d called emergency services and told my parents what happened,” he explained. “There were still difficulties.”

Rey wondered what difficulties. A fight was a fight. If someone got hurt…well, that was what happened in fights.

He watched her. “You must have questions.”

“Yes,” she said, trying to regain her balance. “But—”

“Ask.”

She hesitated a moment, then plunged in. She wasn’t sure she’d’ve been able to if he hadn’t shown her the scene with Han—with his father.

“Snoke was…with you…since you were a kid?”

“Since I remember,” he said. “It was a long time before I realized that he—his voice—wasn’t part of me.”

She stared at him, horrified. “What did he tell you?”

“You heard some of it. There was more. I’d rather not think about it.” He gave her an uneasy glance. “Unless you need to know.”

She shook her head. She wouldn’t inflict that on him. “All the time? Until you killed him?”

“Most of the time. Whenever his attention was on me. My parents feared—” He stumbled almost imperceptibly. “–I wasn’t sane.”

Her hand shot out to take his before she thought about it. She snatched it back just as quickly.

“No.” He caught her hand, folded it in his. “Don’t do that. It’s all right.”

“They—” She hesitated. She knew she was on perilous ground here. “Kylo, they didn’t _say_ that. Did they?”

“They didn’t have to. You know how much the Force allows you to perceive.” After a moment, he said, “That was one favor Luke did me, clearing up _that_ misapprehension.”

She touched the bond to see what thinking about Luke did, but sensed only determined calm.

He went on, “I can’t remember how old I was before I understood that not everyone could hear thoughts and sense emotions.” Something that might’ve been distant cousin to humor glinted in his eyes. “I must’ve been a _terrifying_ child.”

Rey thought of him, nine or ten, wielding the Force like he had. Like he’d already been using it a long time.

There was one question she really didn’t want to ask. She considered a moment, then asked it anyway. “Did you ever try to get away? From Snoke.”

“Did you ever try to get away from Unkar Plutt?”

“Where would I go?”

“Exactly.”

“But…” She trailed off, not sure how far she should push.

“He was the voice in my mind. The one who _understood_ me.” Kylo snarled the word. His grip tightened and he rubbed his thumb back and forth across her knuckles, as if for comfort. “I went to him thinking I’d finally found where I belonged. He taught me to actually use my powers, taught me how to harness the dark side. It was liberating. But things changed. What he told me, what he commanded me to do in service of the dark side.”

“I saw,” she said. “You didn’t like what he made you do.”

He looked away, but his grip on her hand didn’t loosen. Turmoil churned through the bond. She thought about pushing calm through to him but decided it wouldn’t help.

She’d sensed Kylo’s conflict, but before she saw what he’d done, she had no idea how savage and how agonizing that conflict was. To have that evil parasite in your mind, always whispering, always goading, always tormenting. For years. _Decades_. The fact that he wasn’t completely mad was incredible. How could any man—any _child_ —have so much strength?

Compared to what Kylo had gone through, Rey’s life had been easy.

She was suddenly very, very glad she hadn’t taken a ship.

“This is hard, Rey,” he finally said. “I don’t know if I can explain in any way you’ll understand.”

“A little, maybe,” she said. “Like scavenging a component that pays good portions this week. Next week the portions aren’t so good. The week after that, it takes five of the same thing for just a quarter portion. Like that?”

 “Yes,” he said. “A little like that. Only instead of selling salvage, I was selling pieces of my soul. The only way I could survive—”

His breathing had picked up. He glared across the room at nothing. Or maybe there was something to look at like that in his quarters—but probably not. Rey just lay quiet, holding his hand and trying not to be glad they were actually in separate spaces.

“You don’t have to talk about it anymore,” she said quietly.

“I said I’d answer your questions.” He steadied his breathing with an obvious effort. “By the time I found you, I’d taught myself not to feel anything.” His mouth tightened. “I _convinced_ myself I didn’t feel anything.” He finally looked at her again. “You know I did.”

She thought of the vision the Nightfolk had plunged her into, of the moment he’d killed Han. His horror as he watched with her in the vision, the way he clutched her to him.

Even on Starkiller, after it had really happened and Kylo caught up to her and Finn in the forest—

The scene replayed itself in her mind: his wild eyes as he stood facing them in the snow. The strained, half-crazed edge to his voice. The way he’d _beaten_ his own wound as if to make himself suffer as much as he possibly could.

Maybe she hadn’t bested him because he was wounded and the bond had given her access to his training and strength. Maybe she had because he _wanted_ to be beaten. _Punished_. Maybe he even hoped he’d never again be able to do the terrible things Snoke made him do.

No wonder he wanted the past to die.

His voice broke into her thoughts. “I need you to know I’ll never hurt you. You have to believe that.”           

She thought about it. “I know you don’t _want_ to hurt me.”

“No. I _won’t_.”

“It felt like you were about to today, Kylo. It felt very much like it.”

He got that intense expression when he was putting his whole being into trying to convince her of something.

“If I were able to hurt you, it would’ve been on Jannessi. When I was unconscious, vulnerable, in tremendous pain, without the ability to control myself. If I could hurt you, it would’ve been then. I didn’t. That tells me I _can’t_.”

She thought back to the mindless darkness she’d touched in him then, its crushing awareness, the way it had gripped her—but not threatened. Never threatened.

“I don’t think you can hurt me, either,” he added.

“I didn’t like feeling like I might have to. But you scared me—”

His mouth ticked up on one side. “Never scare Rey. She _will_ try to kill you. Every time.”

“Shut up,” she muttered.

“It’s true.”

“It kept me alive!” she flared, sitting up to face him, fists bunched on the blankets.

“Do you know how I know you can’t hurt me?” he said. “You could’ve used the Force against me. I even told you to. You only stood behind that chair and waved a broken bottle at me. And Rey? I could _easily_ have disarmed you if I chose.”

“Is this supposed to make me feel better?”

“Yes,” he said in that grave way of his.

“You would.” She gave him a shove with her foot under the blankets. He looked surprised. “Go to bed, Kylo,” she said.

“If I get into my bed, it will be there, with you.”

She pressed her lips together then mumbled, “That…might be okay.”

He looked a lot more than surprised now.

“Your _creature_ is still here,” she explained. She flapped a hand toward the foot of the bed, ignoring the heat rising into her face. “I can’t get it to go away.”

He cocked his head, laced his fingers between his knees. “Should I come get him?”

She gusted a breath, flopped back on the bed and covered her eyes with her arm again. “Yes. _Please_.”

There on her clothes chest, the hassash gave a trilling purr of pure satisfaction.

_* * *_

The connection winked out.

Kylo jumped off his bed, dove for his boots and pulled them on over bare feet. Grabbing his uniform jacket, he shrugged into it on his way out the door.

He made himself stop before he reached Rey’s door. She’d given him an invitation, yes. But he’d have to be very careful how he accepted it. He drew a long breath, pushed it out again, took the last few steps to her door and pressed the call button.

The door opened to show Rey in her own jacket over shorts that showed a dazzling length of trim, muscular leg, tanned around the calf where the Jakku sun had reached. Despite himself, he swallowed on a suddenly dry throat, then managed to look past her, into the room.

She stepped to the side in silent invitation. “There.” She pointed to the clothes chest at the foot of her bed where the hassash crouched, its three purple eyes blinking at him. “It was on the bed, before,” she said. “I’m afraid as soon as I turn out the lights…” She trailed off.

 _Yes, be very careful_ , he reminded himself and stepped inside.

The hassash watched him but didn’t move to come to him. It occurred to him that he wouldn’t be sorry if it didn’t. But no, he’d promised to come get it. He’d do what he said.

The creature gave a questioning whistle, then showed its sharp teeth in a grin. He felt Rey shudder beside him.

Kylo took a step toward it. “Come on.”

The hassash stretched out two forelimbs, still grinning.

He stretched out a hand. “Now.”

The other four limbs unfolded. Kylo took another step toward it, reaching. As his hand approached, the hassash eased back just enough to keep him from touching. Surprise and a certain amount of unexpected gratification ran through him.

“Can’t you go into its mind?” Rey said.

He did and met…hilarity. It was _enjoying_ this.

He lunged for it. It leapt backward with a defiant screech.

“What is it _doing?”_ she yelped.

Kylo moved around the foot of the bed. The hassash spidered across the rumpled blanket, well out of reach. Arms outstretched, he flung himself at it. It yelped too, jumped straight up in the air, came down on his back. He flipped over on the bed, grappling for it but it launched itself for the ‘fresher door.

“Oh, for pity’s sake!” Rey said.

Kylo jackknifed to his feet and lunged for the ‘fresher. The hassash crouched on the sink, making a taunting noise.

“I _will_ catch you,” he growled.

It leapt to the top of the shower enclosure then with a clicking trill, dropped inside. Kylo wrenched open the door. The creature flew at him and gripped the front of his shirt and jacket. Just as he closed his arms, it scuttled up to his shoulder and launched itself again. Kylo only realized where it landed when Rey shrieked.

He spun in time to see it scrambling over the top of her head as she flailed at it. Then it was out the door.

He caught her by the shoulders. “Are you all right?”

Her hair was everywhere, hanging half in her face. She slashed her fingers through it as if the hassash was still there. “Use the Force!”

She didn’t wait for him but reached out her own hand. Over her shoulder, Kylo saw the hassash rise from the bed, all six limbs thrashing. A Force block broke her hold on it.  It dropped with a squeak onto the bed, scampered off and wedged itself into the space between the bed and the wall.

He stood breathing heavily, his own hair hanging in his face, his jacket askew.

“How did it do that?” Rey said, outraged.

“I don’t know. I didn’t know it could control the Force.”

“Oh, no, no, _no!”_ She waved her arms. “I can’t sleep with that thing in here, waiting to…to… pounce on me!”

He got down on hands and knees by the bed and reached for it. The hassash shrank into itself until all he could see were its eyes and toothy grin.

He stood again, torn between frustration and satisfaction he really shouldn’t be feeling. “What do you want to do? I can’t catch him.”

She put her hands over her face.

“Rey?” He put a concerned hand on her back.

It took a moment before he realized she was laughing. She turned away, her shoulders still shaking.

No one— _no one_ laughed at Kylo Ren. Not if they wanted to avoid a painful death. Outrage boiled up in him…

The brilliant effervescence of her laughter came through the bond, an almost ticklish sensation that made him angrier as he tried to resist. That buoyant light swept over him and he thought of his only half-hearted wish to catch the hassash, the way it conspired with him to put on a good show. Suddenly it _was_ funny, a sensation so foreign it was almost painful.

He felt her wrestle herself back under control before she turned back, struggling with her face while her eyes danced.

“Sorry,” she said.

He gave her a reproachful look. “He doesn’t want to leave you.”

“That’s what I was telling you.” Rey stepped past him, bent and peered behind the bed. The hassash whistled and she straightened quickly. “That evil little thing didn’t bother me when you were with me.” She looked up now, not sharply, but with meaning. “On Jannessi.”

“No. He didn’t.” His heart beat hard, and it wasn’t from chasing the hassash.

She didn’t say anything for a long moment, still gazing expectantly at him. “Um…” she said at last in a small voice. “Maybe you could…stay?”

If Snoke had served any purpose at all, it was to give him durasteel control. “If that will help.”

From behind the bed, the hassash made a noise like _rowwWWWRrrr_.

 _Shh_ , Kylo thought at it.

Rey searched his face a moment longer, then her jaw set. “Okay then.”

With an air of determination, she slipped out of her jacket, laid it across the clothes chest and marched to the bed. Kylo tried not to hyper-focus on her exposed neck and the freckles that dusted her shoulder as she bent over the bed, straightening the covers. She flipped them back and slid into bed without looking at him.

Her obvious shyness was the only thing that kept him from a pounce that would put the hassash to shame. Instead, he sat down on the edge of the bed and pulled off his boots, shrugged out of his jacket and laid it over hers.

He watched a spidery little hand extend from behind the bed, then another, then the hassash pulled the rest of itself out. Raising itself high enough to peer at the bed, it gave a satisfied hum. It tiptoed to the foot of the bed and disappeared behind the clothes chest.

Kylo climbed into bed behind her and waved off the lights. It wasn’t meant for two people, certainly not when one of them was his size, so he had good reason to lie close. He didn’t bother making excuses to himself as he slid an arm under her head and one around her waist. Rey lay quietly but didn’t relax.

“You’re not half-dead from blood loss,” she said eventually.

“No,” he said, confused, then remembered last night’s Force-mediated conversation.

“The only thing terrorizing me is your horrible little monster.”

“Yes.”

She fell quiet again, her breathing a little too fast. Unease trickled through the bond. Kylo held in a sigh.

After a while, she said, “I could just sleep in the ‘fresher.”

He tried to decide if he was insulted or amused. “Rey?”

“What?”

“Go to sleep.”

Slowly, her discomfort faded and she softened against him. His body began to react. He breathed deep, but only drew in more of her scent.

 _Stop_ , he told himself. _Meditate. Control yourself_ _._

Eventually the thick, hard beat of his pulse slowed and the ache in his balls eased. He was beginning to doze off when her voice came, a comfortable sigh in the darkness.

“You’re warm. I get cold here.” She nestled more snugly against him.

Sleep was suddenly the furthest thing from his mind. Swallowing hard, he started his meditation once more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I liked writing this chapter. It's the first time Rey really realizes just how dire Ben's life was, despite his privilege. She's at last able to comprehend the real depths of the conflict she only sensed, but never fully grasped.
> 
> When Mr. Wizards and I first started discussing the possibility of a relationship between Kylo and Rey, he said, "She can't ever be with him. He's bad. He's a killer," etc. By the time he got to this point in the story, he was saying, "I feel really sorry for him." Yes! That means I'm doing my job as a writer!


	28. Reflections

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Rey starts to fall and Hux gets an inkling that he might be in deep doo-doo.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And it's time for... the sword practice trope!
> 
> KriffingHell had a great idea last week: a naming contest for the hassash! Haessal already suggested the name "Spike." Leave your suggestion in the comments, and vote for your favorite!

He dreamt of Snoke. Kylo’s one-time master held Rey suspended with the Force as he tortured her. As he tortured them both—Kylo compelled to feign indifference as she screamed, her head thrown back, every muscle in her body rigid, her mouth stretched open in agony.

 _Death_ , Kylo thought, kneeling on the black floor. Everything else he stuffed down, closed off, wrapped tight in the single thought. _Death, death, death_ …

He jerked and woke. Sweat was cold on his neck and face. His breath came in gasps. In his arms, Rey twitched and whimpered. Her dream, then. Or both of theirs.

All the hate and rage he’d swallowed during those terrible minutes in Snoke’s throne room boiled up, choking him. He shook with the need to kill, maim, destroy. But Rey was here, still locked in nightmare. He wanted to go into her dream, destroy Snoke the way he deserved to be destroyed—slowly, piece by excruciating piece. Make it last _days_.

No. No. Not after what she’d seen yesterday.

He stroked her hair. “Rey. Wake up. You’re dreaming.”

She gave a cry and her eyes flew open.

“It’s all right,” Kylo murmured. “He’s dead. We killed him. He’ll never hurt us again.”

She just panted as he stroked her hair. Slowly, the tension drained out of her.

“I never had nightmares about that,” she finally said.

“Because of what you saw yesterday. What we talked about.”

She let out a breath and closed her eyes again, letting him soothe her.

He squeezed his eyes shut, his gut twisting. “He _touched_ you,” he gritted out. “He _dared_. I should’ve killed him then. But he was watching. I could feel him watching, waiting for me to do something. I knew how strong you are. I had to wait, or he’d just kill you to punish me.”

She turned in his arms. “I thought you were going to kill me when he told you to, Kylo. I really did.”

“I know,” he said bitterly. “After that, why wouldn’t you?”

She was quiet, watching him, though he couldn’t bring himself to look at her.

“It made him think you were going to kill me, too, didn’t it? After you—after he…what he did to me.”

“Yes.” He snipped the word short.

Again, she didn’t say anything, though she didn’t pull away. He didn’t know why not.

She sighed. “It was my own fault, going to the _Supremacy_ like that.” In a smaller voice, she said, “I didn’t know how bad he was.”

“You had no way of knowing.”

She shook her head. “When I showed up in that coffin of an escape pod—you must’ve thought I was crazy.”

Kylo gave a huff. “I was thinking fast and trying hard to stay calm. Snoke sensed you as easily as I did. There would’ve been no hiding you.”

She swallowed hard and lowered her gaze. “I guess not. I forced you into a scavenger’s choice in a bad situation, didn’t I?”

“Don’t, Rey,” he said sharply. “Without you, I’d never have killed him.”

He began stroking her again, to comfort himself as much as her. The silk of her hair, the softness of her cheek grew distracting. Her warm, sleepy scent sent aching heat to his groin.

He stopped, set his jaw and rolled out of bed, struggling to keep his breathing even. She raised herself on one elbow, eyeing him in surprise.

He bent to put his boots on. “Sword practice an hour after breakfast,” he said over his shoulder, pleased at the calmness of his voice.

He snagged his jacket off her clothes chest, bent down and scooped up the ball of grey-and-black brindled fur that was the hassash. It opened one eye and warbled sleepily.

“I’ll see you in the training room,” he said on the way to the door.

“Kylo?”

He turned. She sat cross-legged in the blankets, her fingers kneading them.

“I wish it hadn’t happened that way,” she said. “But I don’t know what you could’ve done different.”

The gratitude that rolled over him almost overwhelmed him. His throat closed and his eyes stung. Bowing his head, he escaped before he could disgrace himself.

* * *

Rey never missed a meal. You never knew when—or if—the next one was coming. But breakfast…well, she knew there was something sweet, maybe fruit, and something chewy that might’ve been bread. Beyond that, she only mechanically chewed and swallowed whatever-it-was on her plate.

The pain and terror and helplessness of those endless minutes with Snoke kept trying to come back: the way he’d dragged her across the room with the Force. The press of his claws on her cheek, the grip that felt like it could crush her jaw. The smell of his breath, not really foul, but alien and _evil_.

She pushed it all away. She hadn’t let herself think about any of it—it didn’t help to dwell on painful things. They only froze you up and dragged you down. You just had to keep moving, get past them. She was still alive. They both were. That was what mattered.

Kylo’s voice came back to her: _He **touched** you. He **dared**_. The way he’d said it, the disgust and fury that churned through him—it rocked her.

She felt again his big hand stroking her hair. Replaying his voice by her ear, her stomach fluttered pleasantly. The way she’d felt this morning, waking to him comforting her…so protected and safe and warm, inside and out.

She’d never felt like that in her life. Never. After everything yesterday, it didn’t make any sense that she would—that she _could_. She thought about it, trying to puzzle it out.

She’d seen so many terrible things in her life. She knew how people could kill, hurt and betray each other. She’d seen it. She’d _experienced_ it. She’d heard people laugh about the things they’d done, brag about them, dismiss and deny and justify them. It was why she’d never trusted anyone enough to let them get close.

Kylo had done terrible things, too. But the difference was, he _knew_ what he’d done was terrible.

And…he hated himself for it. _That_ was what she’d felt while she was immersed in his darkness. It was what lay behind the towering, terrifying rages she’d glimpsed while in his mind. How strange that something so painful was what let her trust him.

The jarring buzz of the door alert came. Rey jumped. She’d never get used to it. She opened the door and TO-99 whirred in, opened her clothes chest and set out training clothes. The droid gathered up yesterday’s clothes and the breakfast dishes.

Watching it, Rey shook her head in disbelief. She had a droid servant.

 _Me. A scavenger_ , she thought.

“Thank you,” she called as it whirred back out again.

“It was my pleasure, madam,” TO-99 said in its cool voice.

Kylo had beaten her to the training room this time. She stopped and watched as he went through forms, graceful and elegant despite his size. Her mouth went dry at the way his muscles moved under his skin. She’d been focused on staying alive when she’d fought both with and against him, so this was the first time she was really able to pay attention.

Lowering his practice blade, he finally turned to face her. There was a certain cautious surprise in his eyes that made her face heat.

“Choose a practice blade,” he said. “Then warm up.”

She went to the weapons rack, grateful for an excuse to turn away. Still, she was conscious of his approach as she tested blades. She chose one that felt good and turned.

“Let me see.” He took it from her and hefted it. “Too heavy. You’re used to your staff. You don’t want a heavy blade. It’ll slow you down and wear you out.” He leaned past her and replaced it. “Try another.”

She pushed down annoyance, reminding herself that he knew swords, she didn’t. She tested a couple more then handed her choice to him. He took it with better grace than she offered it.

“Better,” he said. “Try it and see.”

Kylo led her through a warmup routine, different than what she practiced on Jakku before the sun came up, while it was still cool. She wanted to shrug and do the one she was familiar with just because it felt a little insulting to have someone showing her something as basic as a warmup routine. But she could tell this one stretched and exercised different muscles (presumably those used when fighting with a lightsaber), so she watched and learned.

“That’s good.” He straightened. “Now watch. I’ll show you the forms.”

He slowly demonstrated positions.

“Start with the basic guard position.” He took the position, knees slightly bent, one foot behind, body turned to the side to present a smaller target.

Yes, different than fighting with a staff. She mimicked him. Remembering Luke’s mockery on the meditation stone on Ahch-To, it occurred to her that Kylo was a patient, non-condescending teacher. He didn’t learn that from Luke. He definitely wouldn’t have learned it from Snoke.

“Now bring your rear foot forward and your blade up. Stop,” he said when she’d done as he instructed.

He broke his own stance to move in front of her. With the tip of his blade, he tapped her ankles to adjust her stance. Nodding in satisfaction, he circled around behind her, grabbed her hips and shifted her weight forward.

Shock—and something much warmer—shot through her, coiling and gathering low in her belly. Her heart lurched faster, beating so hard she could feel it in her throat and lips. It was like every nerve in her body was concentrated on where his hands spanned her hips.

His right hand let go and moved to her right arm, slid from upper arm to elbow, adjusting the lift and position of her arm. A line of goosebumps rose where he’d touched. Rey was aware of him behind her, close enough she could feel the heat of his body.

“There.” His breath stirred her hair. “Can you feel that?”

She felt…she felt…

She felt like someone had ignited a fire in her and she was melting. Her knees wanted to wobble. It took every ounce of will to keep them straight. The effort sent a shiver through her that made the blade in her hand quiver.

Kylo stilled behind her. All except for his left hand where it still gripped her hip—his fingers spasmed once.

Rey strained against the urge to lean back into him. “I don’t think this is a good idea.”

He didn’t move, didn’t speak. Then, “Why not?”

That soft, dark voice, so close to her ear. The subtle shift in his touch on her, no longer quite so firm.

She swallowed, willing her trembling to stop. “I— It just isn’t.”

“Tell me.”

Fire burst through her again—anger this time. She stepped forward, out of his grasp, spun to face him.

“That’s a bad habit of yours,” she snapped. “If I wanted to tell you something, I would.”

“Why wouldn’t you?”

“That’s none of your business.”

“I think it is.”

“You think wrong, then.” She turned and started for the door.

“Running away, Rey?” he taunted. “What are you afraid of?”

“I am not _afraid_.”

“You are. You’re afraid of me. Why?”

She spun, raising her blade. “I’ll show you how afraid I am of you.”

He stood in the same spot, his hands by his sides, his weapon thrust through his belt.

“Now you’re using aggression to mask your fear,” he said in that infuriatingly calm way of his. “It’s all right if you’re afraid. There’s nothing wrong with it. Accept your fear. Embrace it.”

“ _Embrace_ it,” she sneered. “Really.”

“Yes.”

She fought an overwhelming urge to go at him with the practice sword. He stood quietly, watching her with his dark gaze. Not taunting or challenging or pushing now, just waiting. She thought about it, then made herself examine what she was feeling.

She _was_ afraid—not of him, but of herself. She didn’t like this…this betrayal. Her body was suddenly foreign, behaving in ways she didn’t understand, couldn’t control—it was trying to control _her_ , make her do things she wouldn’t choose to do on her own. Like fall into his arms. Like maybe do more than fall into arms. Not that she didn’t _want_ to, but she wanted to decide when she was ready.

Embarrassment started to creep in. He had to know through the bond exactly what she’d felt. But then it was probably stupid to be embarrassed, since he obviously felt the same thing.

His patience gradually became a challenge in itself: _Can you face me without bolting? Without snarling and striking out?_

She took a long, quiet breath, wet her lips and forced herself to walk back over to him.

“Okay,” she said and took the stance he’d been showing her. “Let’s try again.”

* * *

That first moment or two, Kylo hadn’t realized the arousal he felt wasn’t his own. He felt her tremble in his grasp, then realized—no, it was _hers_. He found himself quickly following, struggling not to show it before she whirled on him, all prickly self-protectiveness.

He often thought of her as a wild creature. He abruptly realized how accurate that was. Any threat, any hint of a threat, her response was either fight or flight, with little in between. Everything was about survival. If she was frightened, uncertain, caught by surprise, it would be one or the other—flight, if she thought she could get away, fight if she couldn’t. It explained many of her reactions to him.

He counted it a small victory that he’d been able to short-circuit her default response.

So, now they’d try again.

“I’ll need to touch you,” he warned.

Her tongue slipped out to wet her lips, then her chin came up in familiar defiance. “Okay.” She pointed her blade at him. “Just don’t take advantage.”

He knew she meant it, but the fact that she’d address it at all was another good sign.

“No,” he said.

He took the guard position again beside her, watched her form and slowly led her into a parry, then into an attack. She copied him awkwardly, watching intently and adjusting herself to him.

Kylo felt her tapping into the bond and shut it off. “No. Let your mind and body learn this. We already know you can do it with the bond.”

She nodded, and they continued. He picked up the pace, one position flowing into another. She was sloppy, leaving plenty of openings, but she followed doggedly. He’d correct her form later.

He swung around to face her. “Now use the Force. Let it enhance your reflexes and strength.” He moved into an attack.

Blocking his blade, she panted a little, sweat shining on her forehead. “Why not just use it to push you away, or freeze you?”

Kylo shook his head. “You can only use it that way on non-Force-users.”

“Snoke used it on me. He jerked me all over that throne room.”

“He was extremely powerful, enough to overcome your defenses. Mine, too.”

“Are you sure? You’re a powerful Force-user.”

“So are you.”

She dismissed that with a jerk of her chin. “I don’t know what I’m doing.” Her brows pulled together in a thoughtful frown. “Kylo… if he was so powerful, why did he keep… _hurting_ you?”

“Pain gives strength—”

“You don’t damage your tools if you want to keep using them,” she interrupted. “It’s stupid. But that’s what he was doing. Why?”

That stopped him so hard he almost dropped his blade.

Straightening, she lowered her sword. “When I was little, the adults used me to get into places they couldn’t. Then I got bigger and they couldn’t use me that way anymore.”

Something stirred at the bottom of his mind at that, déjà vu or forgotten dream.

She was already going on. “What if you were like that to Snoke? He got you when you were young and tried to make you into his tool. You got older and stronger. Maybe by the time he realized it, you were too strong to kill. Or maybe he thought he could handle you until too late. So he had to do something else. He had to make sure you’d never find out how strong you really are.”

He just stared at her, the rightness of her words exploding through him. He knew Snoke had damaged him; first, when he was young, by planting and nurturing fear, resentment and insecurity. Then as he’d gotten older, mocking and belittling him endlessly, no effort of Kylo’s ever enough. For years, Snoke had been chipping away at him, undermining him, doing everything he could to weaken him. And the scavenger, who’d depended on her tools for survival, saw it with perfect clarity.

He huffed a breath. “Rey, I’m going to do something now. I don’t want you to bolt.”

“What?” she said, all wary wild thing again.

He stepped forward and calmly tugged the practice blade from her hand. Still tense and wary, she watched him.

He crushed her in his arms and lifted her off her feet. She gave a squeak and struggled, though not as hard as she might have.

“Thank you,” he said into her hair. “I never saw it. He never let me. As long as I remember, he trickled poison and pain and misery into me so I wouldn’t.”

She stilled a moment, then gave an evil chuckle into his neck. “Then you dragged in your light-side scavenger and I bet he _really_ peed his fancy gold robes.”

That surprised a laugh out of him. He found he couldn’t stop laughing. It was a strange feeling, alarming, almost frightening, but she was laughing too, convulsing in his arms, hers around his neck, her face buried in his shoulder.

Other impulses began to unfurl, hers, his—or both—he didn’t know. He quickly put her down but left his hand on her neck, his thumb grazing her jaw. He didn’t want to ruin this.

Her eyes sparkled as she looked up at him. Amazement and pleasure curled through the bond, as if she’d received a gift. What had pleased her so much? He was tempted to try to find out but didn’t want to see her retreat.

“You see the benefits to your lack of training?” he said. “You work on instinct and intuition. This is how people must’ve used the Force before knowledge hardened into dogma and religion. This is exactly why—” He swallowed the rest, remembering her reaction to his discovery of their supposed betrothal.

 _Why I wanted you to join me_.

“Why…?” she prompted.

He could feel her surprise and mild suspicion. He never was one to mince words.

“Why we work so well together,” he said. “Me, with my training, you, with your freedom from any sort of indoctrination.”

He felt her sensing him, knowing it was a little different from what he’d meant to say, but not feeling untruth, either. He wouldn’t lie to her. He didn’t know if he even could, but he had no desire to find out.

“Okay,” he said. “We’ll try it your way. Try using the Force against me. Let’s see what happens.”

Sword form practice quickly degenerated into a shoving match. It wasn’t particularly instructive, but watching Rey reduced to helpless laughter was worth it.

* * *

Hux read the strike force’s transmission relayed to his data pad over and over again: _Mission concluded. Kylo Ren neutralized_.

Pure pleasure washed over him, the first he’d felt since awakening in that damned bacta tank. The first since he’d arrested Ren on charges of treason, believing the might of his armies could hold and crush the man.

The cold, clean lines of the room around him, the presence of the white-jacketed officer before him faded. He imagined holding Ren’s head in his hands, what he’d do with it when he did. He’d have to restrain himself from damaging it excessively. It would be agreeable to have it around for some time to enjoy.

Oh, he’d certainly grow weary of it eventually, but until then, it would be a reminder to those who had any thought of defying him. If the mighty _Kylo Ren_ had fallen to Supreme Leader Hux, who could possibly resist him?

Through his triumph and dizzy imaginings, he became aware of the Security Bureau attaché speaking.

“…one matter of concern, Supreme Leader. The _Precursor_ has neither transmitted nor responded to hails since the transmission was received yesterday.”

Hux jerked his gaze up from the data pad. Horrors suddenly reeled through his mind. Kylo Ren capturing the ship, gathering a fleet, _coming for him_ —

He raised the data pad with a shaking hand. “Is _this_ —a lie?”

“We have no evidence that it is, Supreme Leader. After the strike force’s initial transmission from the planet, all protocols were observed—orders received, flight plans filed, casualties noted—”

“Casualties.” Hux broke in.

The attaché consulted his own data pad. “Four TIEs were lost in the attack, two in crossfire, one due to pilot error and one to apparent systems malfunction...”

The attaché was going on about stormtrooper casualties. Hux’s mind had stalled on the ships. Crossfire? Systems malfunctions? _Pilot error?_ It had the stink of Ren’s sorcery.

“At what stage in the mission were the TIEs lost, lieutenant?” he interrupted.

The man tapped his data pad, studying it. “In the initial phases, Supreme Leader.”

Hux let out a breath. Ren’s sorcery, perhaps. But it had availed him nothing. Of course it hadn’t.

He nodded and lowered the data pad. “Keep me apprised. If you don’t hear from that ship—I want to know why.”

“Yes, Supreme Leader.” The attaché bowed and left him.

Vague dread twisted through his gut. _I’ll have guards_ , he thought. Like Snoke’s, bound to him with mindless dedication, ready to die for him at the faintest hint of a threat. He imagined their accouterments, letting himself drift to consider colors for them. Not red. Gold, perhaps, gleaming and dazzling the way Phasma’s armor had—

Phasma had died on the _Supremacy_. So had Snoke’s guards. So had Snoke.

His shining imaginings shook and crumbled, shot through with the green bolts of plasma cannons. He felt the ghost of remembered pressure on his throat, a pressure that simply shut off air and the flow of blood to his brain.

Hux raised a hand to his throat and shuddered

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahhhh, I finally got a chance to talk about Kylo's violent lightsaber tantrums! 
> 
> When I first saw TFA, my reaction to seeing them was very different than a lot of people's. I didn't see him as being deranged, or potentially abusive, or juvenile. No, I immediately thought, "This guy is totally going against himself, and he can't stand it." I saw him as being in complete and utter torment.
> 
> Even though I didn't love TFA as much as I loved TLJ, I already had a lot of sympathy for Kylo Ren. What Rian Johnson and Adam Driver did with his character is genius.


	29. You Need a Teacher

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which even a Force bond can't prevent major misunderstandings.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 95,000 words in, and we FINALLY get a kiss! Thank you for hanging in there with me!
> 
> And...500 kudos this week! Thank you so much for your support and wonderful comments. Every single one makes me so happy. You're the best!
> 
> A reminder-- there's a naming contest going on for the hassash. So far, we have:  
> Kreet  
> Spike  
> Pyewacket  
> Make a suggestion and vote for your favorite!

On a First Order cruiser, surrounded by First Order officers, at a glossy black table emblazoned with the red First Order emblem, Rey sat at Kylo’s right hand.

Unease coiled through her. _Join me_ , he’d said on the _Supremacy_ , holding out that same hand while the helpless Resistance transports were blasted out of the sky one by one—

No. No. This wasn’t the same. She’d made sure the Resistance got away. Everyone here had turned their backs on the First Order. They were all talking now to find a way to be free of it. Not the same thing at all.

The _Precursor_ had transmitted the success of its mission—then ceased all communication. The Security Bureau personnel had deactivated and destroyed all tracking devices. The ship ran dark and silent through the hyperspace lanes, headed toward two star destroyers near some planet called Rakata. She had to ask Kylo why Rakata was a bad place to be.

Discussion went back and forth between him and the officers. The best way to approach the _Relentless_ and the _Raptor_. How to get the Nightfolk aboard. The star destroyers would normally report contact with the _Precursor_ , but the commander, as a member of the Security Bureau, could order the ships to comm silence.

Hands folded on the table, Rey listened, reminding herself that you always felt lost and stupid until you figured out how some new thing worked.

The hassash didn’t accompany Kylo today, but four Nightfolk dressed in skins and mallik-pelt cloaks stood behind him. The officers’ discomfort at their presence shaded at the edges to fear.

 _Not good_ , Rey thought. Caution and awareness of danger were one thing, but fear made bad decisions. She knew that for a fact. If she was going along with all this, she didn’t want to get caught in someone else’s mistake.

 _You have power_ , Verrannallu had said. She didn’t feel like she had power. What was it supposed to feel like?

 _Since I have power_ , she thought, defiant, _I can make these people not be afraid of the Nightfolk_.

She reached for the Force.

The dark flowed out from the Nightfolk, curling through the room and around everyone in it. They didn’t seem to be feeding; it was just part of what they were. Darkness surrounded Kylo, too, although his was more controlled and contained, and—

Rey blinked, looking closer. His darkness was shot through now with light like the shooting stars the streaked Jakku’s nights. (Space junk falling, someone had told her once, but those brilliant flashes lit the night with streaks of color like a celebration.)

She thought of Kylo’s laughter this morning. She’d sensed how it scared him, but she’d been so astonished and thrilled hearing it she could hardly keep from grabbing him and swinging around him right there on the training room floor. Like everything that was really _him_ was breaking free little by little.

She knew then what to do.

Rey opened herself, blending her light with the darkness, turning it into a soft, calm grey that ebbed gently around the room.

Kylo glanced at her sharply. His gloved hand came to rest on her knee. Through the bond, she felt caution—a warning?—but the hand didn’t squeeze or shake her. A mild warning, then: _Be careful_. It made sense. Fear made mistakes, but so did overconfidence. People just needed to be able to think with clear heads.

The atmosphere in the room changed, less weighty and more energetic. Ideas flew back and forth. The men and women at the table leaned forward, one taking the suggestion of another and building on it.

Rey sat back in her chair, amazed and wondering.

* * *

Kylo sat by Rey, the light of her power flowing over him. He sensed the changes in his own power, as if her spark lit a fire in him. He didn’t yet know what to do with it. It was too new, the possibility that he might be able to accept both sides of his nature, the light as well as the dark.

The strategy meeting was winding down, their course forward agreed upon, all familiar routine. What was _un_ familiar was being the one in control of the agenda—no longer tasked with carrying out the agenda of another.

With Snoke, he’d learned not to question. To not even think about what he was doing—just put one foot in front of the other, keep moving, get through it until it was done. Shut his mind and heart to everything between the moment he was commanded to the moment the job was finished.

The old rage rose, clotting his throat, banding his chest, sending painful electricity arcing over his muscles. He took his hand from Rey’s knee and shut the bond tight before she could sense it.  He quivered with the effort to resist.

He knew what this was. What was triggering these feelings. It was being on a ship like this again. It was being among this sort of people, wearing these uniforms. But everything was different now. He had to remember that. There was no one to force him or torment him or debase him. Everything he did now was by his own choice, for his own reasons.

He breathed, relaxed his muscles. Focusing on Rey’s light beside him, he forced his awareness back to the present, to this room.

Talk had quieted. The officers rose and began to file out, more than one glance falling on Rey. They were curious about her. He knew what they saw—her youth, her watchful silence, her presence by the side of the dreaded Kylo Ren. They’d sense her light the same way they sensed his darkness, even if they couldn’t know what it was they felt.

The Strike Unit Commander, DR-8853, the first one she’d turned, knew what she was, what she’d done. As he stood from the table, he glanced at her with a slight smile and acknowledging nod. Kylo narrowed his eyes. He sensed gratitude and…a certain _interest_.

Gratitude was understandable, allowable. Rey had pulled the man out of a long nightmare, given him hope. Of course he’d be grateful.

Interest…

No.

Under the table, Kylo clenched a fist on one knee. The commander was a valuable resource. If he had to kill him—

No, no, he couldn’t think like that. That was Snoke’s voice talking, the old whispers goading him into despicable acts. _Resist_ , he told himself. He didn’t have to do those things anymore. He didn’t want to look in Rey’s eyes and see a killer reflected back.

There were other ways of handling the problem. Ways that didn’t include fear and pain and death. He simply had to be clever and think.

Kylo pushed out a breath. He only wished he could call her more than his _partner_. That would be the simplest—and most satisfying—solution.

He glanced at her, saw she was waiting to talk to him. No doubt she had many, _many_ questions. He nodded his understanding but turned first to the Nightfolk.

“Is there anything else?”

 _We feed again soon_ , they said. _We are glad_.

“I promised you would.”

 _Brother_ …

One stepped forward, laid two hands on his arm, an unprecedented intimacy. Another stepped to flank Rey. She glanced over and tensed but kept still.

 _Bright shines in you now_ , the Night-one said. _Does it give you pain?_

He looked at Rey before replying. “No. It gives me strength.”

_And us? What do you see now when you look on the Nightfolk?_

“I see what I did before,” Kylo said. “My allies. I see a Force-gifted people who can finally take their place in the galaxy.”

The Night-one bowed its head and let its hands fall away.

The one by Rey looked her in the eyes. _Do not try to make him what you are, Bright-one_.

Kylo could see her considering her response.

“We have an understanding that way,” she finally said. “He doesn’t try to turn me, and I don’t try to turn him.”

Kylo’s breath stopped as if he’d been punched. He thought she still hoped for that. That deep down, she still hoped to find Ben Solo. That meant…

These past days, on the _Precursor_ , it was really _him_ she saw, _him_ she turned toward, _him_ she wanted. Not some hopeful vision of someone he once might’ve been.

He struggled to take it in. Rey and the Night-one locked eyes for a moment more, then at last it stepped back. The four Nightfolk glided from the room.

He looked at her with no idea what to say. His chest felt too tight for words, even if he did have them.

“Did I do something wrong?” she said, suddenly anxious.

“No, Rey. Not at all.” _Not at all_.

She let out a breath, nodded and fixed him with a serious gaze. “What am I doing here, Kylo?”

He was glad of the chance to regain his balance. “You’re learning.”

“Learning what?”

“Now that you have power,” he said, “your life will be very different.”

“That’s what Verrannallu said, too.”

He wondered in what context the healer had told her that.

She pursed her lips thoughtfully. “Luke didn’t live all that different from me.”

“Do you want to live like Luke?” he said, his voice amazingly calm.

She thought about it. “No,” she finally said. “It seemed…pointless.”

“Most everything the Jedi did was _pointless_.”

“It seemed that way to me, too. But the only thing I got to learn is that the Jedi should end.”

There was much to gratify him in those two sentences. “What did you do while you were with Luke?”

Her face darkened. “Mostly followed him around and tried to get him to stop ignoring me when he wasn’t telling me, ‘Go away,’ and ‘I won’t teach you.’”

Kylo didn’t need the bond to know her humiliation and pain at the memory. He was going to _kill_ Luke when he caught up to him. First, he’d grab him by the neck and force him to look at what he’d thrown away.

He pushed down the anger. “If he’d agreed to train you, it would’ve been much the same.”

“You mean I’d just…follow him around?”

He nodded.

She sat back and folded her arms. “That doesn’t make any sense.”

“It helps to observe. To think about what you see,” he said, then ventured, “Like you’ve been doing today.”

He knew something like this conversation would be coming. He hadn’t quite decided what approach to take—other than a careful one.

He wanted the pleasure of teaching her, helping her reach her potential. But take her as an apprentice? Absolutely not. Become her _master?_ Never.

“Is that what I’m doing now? Following you around?” She wrinkled her nose.

The same dynamics must’ve occurred to her. He had to give her a way to accept. “Now you know how I felt on Laharna.”

She grinned. “So _that’s_ why you were looming. I knew there was something you didn’t like. I just didn’t care what it was.” She studied him. “Okay. Fair enough. I can follow you around.”

Kylo opened the bond enough for her to feel his pleasure. He sat back in his chair. “What did you observe today?”

“They want to do this. They aren’t just afraid of the Nightfolk.”

He nodded.

She frowned. “But I don’t really understand why. Well, I _do_. I saw how they were living. They’re hardly allowed to…to be _human_. But all I did was show them a vision.”

“You came to the _Supremacy_ on the strength of a vision.”

“Yes, but that was because I—” She broke off. Color pushed into her cheeks.

She’d told him why in the lift on the way to Snoke’s throne room. “Because you thought you could turn me to the light.”

She got that look of grim determination he often saw. “That’s what I told Luke. It’s even what I told myself.”

Kylo’s heart suddenly beat hard.

“I came because I care about you,” she rushed out.

For the second time in as many minutes, he didn’t know what to say—was afraid of saying too much. The last thing he wanted was to scare her off.

She broke from his gaze. “Anyway, I don’t think that’s the reason for these people.”

He swallowed hard, willing his voice to be steady. “Maybe it is. Maybe they saw a vision of someone they care about.” He hesitated, then decided he couldn’t _not_ say something. “The way I did when you used your power on me.”

She looked up again, her gaze intent on his. Emotions tumbled through the bond: yearning, warmth, uncertainty.

Rey’s hand lay on the table by him. He realized he’d covered it with his, that he’d leaned very close. He stopped himself, ready to draw back when she closed the little distance between them and kissed him.

His brain whited out in shock. There was only the sensation of her lips on his, soft and hesitant, her scent of wind and sunlight, intoxicating.

The warmth of her lips abruptly disappeared and her hand ripped out from under his. He rocked forward and his eyes snapped open—when had he closed them? She stood by the table now, her eyes wide with horror.

“I’m sorry!” she blurted.

“What?” His brain had finally caught up to what happened, his body quickly following and definitely _not_ wanting this sudden distance between them.

“I’m sorry!” she said again. “It’s just—yesterday, when I saw—and I thought—” She put her hands over her face.

“Rey,” he began, reaching for her.

“Oh, no,” she said into her hands. “Oh, no, _no!”_ She spun and bolted for the door.

Kylo shot to his feet. “Rey, wait!”

She made a sound suspiciously like a sob and flung out a hand. The Force wrenched the door open and she was through it and gone.

* * *

Rey ran along the corridor, burning with humiliation. She hadn’t been thinking, and Kylo had been so close, and the way he _looked_ at her, his eyes full of the same feeling she’d seen in his bright dream of the two of them… It had just felt so natural, so _perfect_ —

Oh, what must he think? No, she didn’t have to ask. She’d _felt_ what he thought.

Four stormtroopers wheeled in surprise as she darted past them. She kept running, driven by the thought of Kylo catching up to her. A white-jacketed officer walked ahead. Rey pulled herself down to fast walk, breezing past him as if she had somewhere important to be.

She did. Her quarters. Preferably in that little space behind the bed the hassash had hidden in last night.

“Rey?” the officer called behind her.

She knew the voice—not-Finn. No, she had to stop thinking of him that way. He was Dare, the Strike Unit commander. She turned, hoping she didn’t look like she was struggling not to cry.

His broad, dark face showed concern. “Hey, are you okay?”

“Yeah,” she lied. “Just…getting used to everything.”

It occurred to her it might not even be a lie—she was probably cycle-lagged. The _Precursor’s_ schedule was several hours off Jannessi’s, Jannessi time was different from the _Finalizer’s_ , and the _Finalizer_ had been on a different cycle than Ahch-To. Add in Takodana and Jakku time—oh, right, and Laharna—and it was no wonder she was unsteady and doing stupid things.

Dare nodded. “I’m headed to the officer’s mess. Strategy meetings—whew.” He shook his head. “Would you like to come along?”

He still reminded her of Finn. She remembered when she met Finn, how he’d grabbed her hand and dragged her after him while she spluttered in outrage.

An unexpected smile tugged at her lips. “I never turn down a meal.”

Dare smiled in return and started walking again. “You’re not First Order, are you?”

“No, I’m—” _just a scavenger_. She swallowed that. “I’m not.”

“We were surprised when Kylo Ren introduced you as his partner. We knew him as the Supreme Leader’s lieutenant before—” He glanced at Rey. “Before all the turmoil at the top. We never heard he worked with anyone else. How long have you been with him?”

She counted backward. Two nights here. Five nights on Jannessi, one on the Silencer, one on the _Finalizer_. The nights on Ahch-To, when they first started talking—

She blinked. “Not long.”

Yet it seemed like he’d always been a part of her.

“How is he to work with?” Dare said. “He has a reputation.”

“For what?”

Dare paused outside a door. “For being…volatile.”

Rey thought of the vision yesterday, of Kylo reducing a control room to glowing scrap. “Not that I’ve found,” she said.

“I guess you wouldn’t,” Dare said cryptically.

The door whisked open on the sound of voices, a scattering of round tables and a mostly-black sea of officers’ uniforms. She saw the glances, felt their curiosity and slowed, all the old Jakku alertness coming back. She wished for her staff. The officers carried sidearms. Maybe she could get a blaster.

Dare touched her elbow. “Come on. Caf?”

She wrinkled her nose. “Water’s good.” She’d had caf during her brief layover at the Resistance base.

“You’re right. Standard issue caf leaves something to be desired.”

Rey let him guide her to the miracle of a counter of food just sitting there for the taking. She’d halfway expected field rations, but it was real bread, real meat, real vegetables. She watched what Dare put on his plate and made sure not to put more than that on hers.

He glanced at her plate and widened his eyes dramatically. “Strategy meetings take it out of you, too?”

She lifted her chin. “High metabolism.”

Dare didn’t say any more as he led the way to an empty table. Rey felt eyes track her all the way there. She did some glancing of her own as she passed tables to see if First Order people ate the way Resistance people did. It looked like it. No shoveling of food, no licking of plates. She sighed. Eating in her quarters was much easier.

“So, what’s it like?” Dare said. “Working with Kylo Ren.”

She took a disappointingly small bite, made sure she chewed well before swallowing. It gave her time to think, anyway. “Different. Nothing stays the same for long.”

“Sounds like you led a boring life before.”

She shrugged and took another bite.

“Do you like him?”

Rey put down her fork and studied Dare. “Are you worried about him?”

“I told you he has a reputation. You know him better than any of us.”

Something about the conversation made her uneasy. It seemed like Dare was fishing for something, but she didn’t know what.

She weighed the idea, then brushed the surface of his mind. She sensed…interest. Curiosity. It tracked with the questions he’d been asking, but some instinct suddenly urged distance.

“I don’t know about his reputation,” she said. “But if I had a choice between Kylo or Hux, I know which one I’d pick.”

She picked up her plate and stood. “I was on my way to take care of something. I’ll just take this with me. Thanks for showing me around.”

Rey walked out of the room, the prickle of eyes following her all the way.

* * *

Fists clenched, Kylo forced himself to sit down, refusing to allow himself to go after her. Chasing Rey when she was in full flight mode was never a good idea.

He did open the bond to track her. He sensed her painful embarrassment and a powerful distress that went much deeper than that.

He was utterly baffled. What had happened? One moment, she was kissing him, then she was babbling apologies and acting like she’d betrayed his deepest trust. It made no sense.

He sensed for her again, found her calmer now, though still wound through with a thread of unhappiness and discomfort. He found himself on his feet again, his fingers moving over his data pad.

It was an awkward business, correlating his sense of her with an exact location on the ship. Now, he calculated that she was either in Supplies, the kitchens or the officers’ mess.

He pressed his lips tight and strode out into the corridor. _Supplies_ , he thought. He didn’t want to examine why she hadn’t wanted to ask him for what she needed.

Closing in, Kylo turned into the last corridor, reaching for her Force signature.

He stopped. Rey wasn’t in Supplies.

She was in the officers’ mess.

Heat prickled between his shoulder blades, up his neck and over the back of his skull. _She’s always hungry_ , he reminded himself.

So she went there, in the middle of a company of strangers, with the state of mind she was in?

He was breathing hard. Cornering her in the officers’ mess would not be productive on any level. He retreated, pacing back along corridors, ignoring the techs and droids and officers he passed.

He felt her moving again, first in his direction, then away again. He waited a minute more then retraced his steps. He paused outside the door to the officers’ mess to get his breathing under control, then stepped through.

The muted hum of conversation, the rattle of cutlery on plates stuttered and quieted. Every face turned his way. Kylo felt the wave of unease that rippled through the room. His gaze went unerringly to a table near the back, where Strike Unit Commander DR-8853 sat by himself. Though the man remained calm externally, seemingly focused on his meal, Kylo sensed the dread that unfurled through him.

Kylo wound his way toward him. Alarm spiked at each table he passed, but he remained focused on his prey. He stopped, and DR-8853 looked up.

“I’m looking for Rey,” Kylo said bluntly. “Have you seen her?”

DR-8853 quickly got to his feet. “She was just here a minute ago, sir. She said she had something important to do and left again.”

The man didn’t dissemble. Good. Kylo skimmed his mind and found his thoughts full of Rey, her smile, her plate piled with enough food for a stormtrooper twice her size. He clenched his jaw and his fingers twitched in the beginnings of a Force choke. DR-8853 suddenly began coughing hard.

When the commander quieted, Kylo sat and waved him back to his seat. He took it, eyeing Kylo warily.

Kylo considered his course. He decided he could do this without endangering everything they’d accomplished, everything they had yet to accomplish.

He made a point of using the Force to call a cup of caf to his hand from the service counter. DR-8853 boggled.

“More caf?” Kylo asked mildly, gesturing at the commander’s half-empty cup.

“No, sir. Thank you, sir.”

Kylo sipped. “I’m…” He paused for effect. “… _concerned_ for Rey. This is all new to her. Even this.” He gestured to indicate the ship around them. “She hasn’t been off-planet much.”

DR-8853 didn’t touch his food. “Yes, sir. She did mention that she was getting used to it all.”

Kylo dipped into his thoughts again: Rey’s stricken face. DR-8853’s voice: _Are you okay?_

“She’s capable of taking care of herself,” Kylo said. “She has for a long time, in more challenging circumstances than this. But I won’t see her put in any unnecessary difficulties.”

The commander was sitting up very straight now. “No, sir. I understand, sir.”

“I knew you would.” Kylo stood, straightening to his full height. “Thank you, DR-8853.”

He nodded and turned, noticing the absolute silence in the room now. _No one_ would bother Rey in the future.

* * *

The bond shivered into existence. Kylo stopped pacing his quarters and turned, relief rushing through him.

Rey had apparently been pacing _her_ quarters, too. She stopped mid-stride but didn’t look at him, her folded arms and stiff back radiating discomfort.

“Go away, Kylo,” she said.

“I can’t go away until the connection ends,” he pointed out.

She turned away. “Stupid bond. Why is the Force _doing_ this?”

He resisted the urge to point out exactly why. “Rey, stop. What’s wrong?”

“Please,” she said, still facing away. “Leave me alone. Just—please.”

“Tell me what’s wrong.”

She gave a wordless growl. “There you go again—‘tell me.’”

“Rey,” he said. “You can talk to me like this, or I’ll go there.”

She rounded on him, clenching her fists. “Haven’t I made enough of a fool of myself already?”

“What are you talking about?”

“I know what you felt when I—when I—” She squeezed her eyes shut, breathing hard. “I shocked you,” she finally gritted out. “You were only answering my questions and I— _Oh!”_

She stomped her foot and put her fists to her face.

His guts churned with her humiliation. His heartbeat ramped up, and he had no doubt it matched hers. He crossed to her, took her wrists and pulled her hands down.

“You think I was _offended?”_ he asked in disbelief.

She stood stiff but didn’t try to break free. “You _were_ offended! I felt it!”

Kylo ran a hand down his face. To share a bond like they did and still have so profound a misunderstanding? Something never to forget.

“I was surprised,” he said.

She turned her face away again. Apparently, that didn’t make it much better in her eyes.

“Rey,” he said firmly. “Stop. Think. Have I given you reason to think I’d find your kiss unwelcome?”

She still wouldn’t look at him, but he felt her calming. She began to fidget a little in his grasp. “No.”

“No,” he agreed.

She managed a peek at his face, up and then down again. “I never kissed anyone before,” she muttered.

Triumph swelled through him. The next instant, he realized the vulnerability she showed in those few words.

“I’m glad it was me,” he said, then, recklessly, “Would you like practice?”

He held his breath as she looked up at him again.

Finally, her lips twitched. “Are you saying I need a teacher?”

He took a step forward. They were only inches apart. “Do you?”

He saw her throat bob in a swallow. “Yes,” she whispered.

He took her face in his hands, smoothing back a strand of hair with his thumb. Her breath sped and her lips parted, her wide eyes on his.

“Close your eyes,” he murmured.

Her eyelids fluttered closed. He bent his head and touched his lips to hers, as soft and hesitant as her kiss this afternoon. He drew back, kissed her again, just as softly. Her hands slid up his chest to his shoulders. When he drew back once more, she pursued him.

His own hands shifted, one slipping around to thread his fingers into her hair, the other arm encircling her to pull her close. The feel of her slight body pressed against his lit him on fire. He wanted to crush and devour. He leashed the instinct, dragged it back, kept his kisses slow and gentle.

Her scent enveloped him. She whimpered, tangled her fingers in his hair and clutched him, her pleasure and desire unfurling through the bond. Kylo tightened his grip, lifting her to her toes, and freed just a whisper of his need to consume. Rey’s mouth opened to his, and for the first time, he tasted her.

His head spun. His hand moved to her firm bottom, pressed her to the aching heat growing at his groin. Her leg slid up his and she tilted her head back. He delved into her mouth, ravenous, his control slipping fast.

Kylo abruptly found his arms empty. Groping at cold air, he staggered, caught himself, sucked in a furious breath. Everything that wasn’t bolted down rose into the air. The bed and clothes chest shook. In the ‘fresher, the sink and shower rattled threateningly.

He ground his teeth and clenched his fists, exerting all his strength to contain himself. It was like trying to contain a solar flare.

The floating objects blew outward, slammed against the walls. Sparks sprayed. The lights flickered. The sound of breaking glass was drowned out by his shout of raw frustration.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Force is mean.
> 
> You might’ve noticed that I don't think Kylo Is a virgin. I might be in the minority here, but I see a 30-year-old guy and enough women attracted to power and danger that I don’t think he’d’ve lacked for willing partners. Not to say that there would’ve been any real intimacy in his affairs or that he was ever remotely in love, but I do think he’d be experienced.


	30. The Raptor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the partnership between Dark and Light begins its journey out into the galaxy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 10,000 hits! Thank you! I hope you know how much your support means to me, especially the comments. You've touched me, made me think, made me smile and made me laugh. Your kind words are incredibly valuable, and such a great reward.

Her arms locked tight around her, Rey paced her quarters again—for a different reason. She cursed the Force again—for a different reason. She still felt the heat of Kylo’s hands, smelled his scent. She licked her lips, swollen and a little tender. She could still _taste_ him. And the way his big, solid body had felt, the strength in his arms locked around her—

She remembered when she saw him half-naked through the Force that first time, the way the sight of his powerful chest and arms had shocked through her, sending a strange heat breathing over her skin. It was like that now, but the shock was more of a throb, the heat a blaze that made her breath shake.

She should go to him. No, she shouldn’t. If she did, _things_ would happen. Was she ready for that? Yes. No. Yes.

She dropped her arms to her sides. Clenching her fists, she started for the door—

—And stopped. Kylo’s presence was coming toward her, a rumbling wave through the Force.

She scrambled backward, bumped into her bed and sat down hard. A few moments later and the door gave its nerve-shredding buzz. Rey made herself wait, her heart thudding hard three times, then she jumped up and darted for the door.

He was breathing as hard as she was. There was a brush of color high across his cheeks. She looked up at him, her mouth suddenly dry and her heart beating much too hard. She felt like a captured moon, spinning irresistibly down into his gravity.

His throat bobbed once in a swallow. “We’ve made contact with the _Raptor_. We’ll be dropping out of hyperspace in fifteen minutes.”

It was like missing a step in the dark. She fumbled, cut adrift, then managed, “Oh.”

He just stood looking at her, a question in his eyes.

Without thinking, she stepped forward, slid her hand behind his neck, went up on tiptoes and kissed him on the corner of the mouth. He went completely still.

“It was nice,” she whispered in his ear. “Let’s do it again soon.”

Releasing him again, she slipped past him and started down the corridor.

An arm came around her middle and snatched her back.

“Ky—!” she managed then his mouth came down on hers and swallowed the rest.

She was dimly aware of the hiss of her door closing. Her back hit the wall and his hands were everywhere, roaming up her sides, down over her hip. Her hands were trapped between them. She knotted her fingers in the front of his tunic. Pressed against the wall, she couldn’t escape—didn’t _want_ to escape, intensely aware of every inch where his body met hers.

Her head spun. Little, eager noises came from her throat as she kissed him. And oh, it was even better than it had been through the Force, so much stronger, so much _more_.

He broke from her mouth, trailing little nipping kisses down her neck. “Soon enough?” he growled.

Rey moaned. “Fifteen—” she got out.

He silenced her again, one hand tangling in her hair, the other slipping from hip to bottom, strong fingers kneading her flesh.

She whimpered and her knees went out from under her. Only the wall, the crush of his body against hers and her hands fisted in his tunic held her up.

Kylo abruptly broke away, burying his face in her hair. His hands shifted, cradling her head against his shoulder, his other arm sliding around her waist. He was breathing hard.

“Fifteen minutes,” he said roughly, “is not enough.”

She clung to him and panted. No. Not _nearly_ enough.

* * *

The lieutenant touched the comlink at her ear and turned away from her screen. “We drop out of hyperspace in one minute, sir.”

Kylo, standing in front of Rey, nodded in acknowledgement. His hands, warm and gloveless, enfolded hers, sending disquieting ripples through her.

“Are you ready?” he said, his eyes searching her face.

She glanced around the hangar, to the Nightfolk boarding a shuttle, the white-armored Strike Unit guarding the ramp, also prepared to board for the preliminary stage of the assault on the _Raptor._

She took a breath, set her jaw and forced herself to focus. “I’d better be.”

“It’s the same as what you did with the guard in the interrogation room, on Starkiller,” he said. “The first time you used the Force.”

She gave a jerky nod.

His calm flowed to her through the bond, easing her tense muscles. She let out a breath. The next one she took matched Kylo’s. She felt the pulse in her throat flutter then slow to beat in time with his.

It was the opposite of Snoke’s throne room, when every sense, every reflex had sparked and sped to match his.

Rey reached for the Force, forming feelings: _Trust_. _Assurance. Security. Certainty_.

“Good.” Kylo’s confidence and approval rippled through the bond.

“Dropping out of hyperspace now, sir.” The lieutenant’s voice came distant.

“Now,” Kylo murmured. “Reach out.”

Rey let the conflagration of her power ignite, spiraling outward.

Kylo’s swirled around her, dark and cool, containing and directing hers. It blasted out through the hangar, into space. She sensed the star destroyer, a blaze of life in the emptiness of space.

Beyond the heaving sea of the Force, the lieutenant’s voice spoke: “Codes transmitted and received. Comm silence ordered. Permission to board received.”

The whine of the shuttle’s engines pressed around her, then fell silent as the ship pierced the pressurizing field. The stormtroopers aboard were more specks of light, the Nightfolk shivers of darkness.

Rey sent to the Force, _Interest. Curiosity. Eager anticipation_. Kylo focused the suggestion like a beam toward the _Raptor_.

Time was nothing in the Force, only the ebb and flow of life, a glittering, beautiful, ever-shifting web. She didn’t know how much had passed when the lieutenant’s voice spoke again.

“They’re aboard the _Raptor_ , sir. Mission commenced. Sensors detecting blaster fire.”

Rey sensed darkness spilling across the glimmering lights, spreading through the ship. Pain and horror and terror blossomed in its wake, twisting in her gut. Pushing through the devouring darkness, she groped for the light—

“No.” Kylo’s dark power coiled around her light, threading through and dampening it. “You’re going too deep. There is light. You know it. Give your knowledge to the Force. Let your power give strength to the light side.”

He withdrew again, though she still felt him near, a vast presence flowing through the Force.

It was hard, surrendering her intent to the Force, not being able to _see_ and _feel_ the hopes she wanted to nurture. Like scattering seeds to the wind and hoping they’d land in fertile ground. But there, _there_ a glimmer appeared in the darkness sweeping through the _Raptor_. Another flickered to life, then another. Rey kept her intention focused on the wave of darkness the Nightfolk rode, sparking ripples of light behind it.

 _Hope_ , she thought. _Aspiration_. _Purpose_.

Brightness grew, though she felt it whirling with confusion, lost and disoriented.

“They’ve sent a distress call, sir,” the lieutenant said. “TIE squadrons launched.”

“Prepare to launch counterattack,” Kylo said. “Follow my lead.”

Rey pulled out of the Force long enough to blink up into his intense gaze.

“You can do this.” His grip on her hands tightened. “Don’t go too deep.”

She nodded, her head swimming, her entire body vibrating with the power of the Force.

Kylo let go of her hands and strode for his Silencer, a towering storm of black among the scurrying forms of mechanics and droids and running TIE pilots.

* * *

Kylo’s Silencer shot out of the _Precursor’s_ hangar, a flurry of TIEs howling out behind him. More TIEs rounded the hull from the aft and starboard hangars, spreading out to meet the _Raptor’s_ onslaught. Engaging shields and stealth field, he flipped down his targeting array. The _Raptor’s_ TIEs filled the screen, so many he couldn’t possibly miss.

He commed his squadron leaders. “Fire at will.”

They signaled acknowledgement, then the green bolts of mag-pulse cannons were stitching the black of space. TIEs dove and twisted in a deadly dance.

Kylo assessed the odds. The _Precursor’s_ pilots were a cut above line fighter pilots. Flying for a Security Bureau ship, they had to be. But the _Raptor’s_ forces were, for all practical purposes, endless.

It was only a matter of time. If DR-8853’s Strike Unit aboard the _Raptor_ didn’t gain control of the bridge soon, he’d be forced to confront the star destroyer head-on. The Silencer was perfectly capable of taking on the _Raptor’s_ defenses, as he’d proven when he and Rey escaped the _Finalizer_. But a damaged or crippled destroyer was _not_ part of Kylo’s plan.

Green bolts of plasma slashed across his entire field of vision. A TIE to his left exploded. One above him took a hit that sent it spiraling away. A blast went from a burst of green to white as it struck his shields. An enemy fighter flashed on his targeting screen. Kylo pressed the trigger and it disappeared in a glowing spray of superheated shrapnel. He punched the engines, hurtling through enemy fire, then through enemy fighters, heading for the _Raptor_.

Everything suddenly shifted. While half of Kylo’s awareness was occupied taking out as many fighters as he could, the other half watched what was happening with amazement.

Enemy TIEs simply…stopped firing. Some shut down engines and hurtled through space, riding nothing but their own momentum. A few crashed into their wingmen, as if guiding the ship had become a burden too heavy to bear. A moment later and they were all falling to the _Precursor’s_ fighters like targets in a novice-level sim.

Kylo could feel power flowing through the Force.

 _Rey_ , he thought. _**She’s** doing this_.

The _Precursor’s_ squadron leader came over the comlink. “They’re breaking off. What are your orders, sir?”

“Shields up and weapons ready, but hold your fire unless fired upon.”

“Yes, sir.”

Kylo reached out through the Force. The power enwrapping the enemy TIEs was— _dark_. As dark as any Force projection he could achieve.

Worry spiked through him. _Rey, what are you doing?_ She shifted toward the dark so easily…

He felt back along the bond for her and sensed anger and fear. Why? What had happened?

As his worry bled back through the bond, he felt her focus on him, light almost blinding in its intensity.

He huffed out a breath. _**There** you are_, he thought.

He truly _didn’t_ want her to turn to the dark, he realized suddenly. Sometimes he’d wondered if telling her that was only a feint, a tactic to get her to let down her guard with him. It was a strange sort of relief to discover it wasn’t.

At the other end of the bond, Rey relaxed, too, maybe responding to him.

A tiny holo shimmered to life over his comm: DR-8853, commanding the Strike Unit. “Sir, we’ve secured command. Captain Arkady is standing by for your orders.”

Ferocious triumph blazed through Kylo. “Captain Arkady,” he responded. “Recall your fighters. Resume communications silence and await my further orders.”

* * *

Even with two blackening eyes and the front of his uniform spattered with blood from his broken nose, the _Raptor’s_ captain stood at rigid attention as Kylo gave orders. The rest of the bridge crew didn’t look much better—Rey saw plenty of bruised faces, bleeding hands and torn jackets. One woman had a seeping bald patch where she’d torn at her hair while in her dark visions. Rey hunched her shoulders and glanced away.

She was marrow-deep tired. Not the kind of tired from clambering through dead ships all day long, but tired like that time she’d sliced herself good on a duct’s sheet metal, going dizzy by the time she got the spurting wound tied off with strips torn from her wrappings.

Still, she managed to hold herself straight, forcing herself to pay attention to what was going on around her. No strategy meeting this time. No discussion. Just the captain nodding and saying, _Yes, sir. No, sir. I’ll see to that, sir_ , his swollen eyes on Kylo round and dazed and nervous.

Uneasiness slithered through her. She didn’t want to be part of telling people what to do. She knew what it felt like, to be forced to do what someone said. She remembered a little girl compelled to crawl into the smallest, darkest, most frightening places, not allowed to come out until she’d fetched whatever she’d been sent for.

 _No_ , she told herself firmly. _This isn’t like that_.

The _Raptor_ had sent a distress call. Someone would be showing up very soon to deal with the problem—no time for meetings and discussions. She might not know exactly how these things worked, but that was clear enough.

Rey kept her attention spread across the _Raptor’s_ cold, gleaming black bridge, standing just enough behind Kylo to avoid hampering his swing if he had to draw his lightsaber. With Dare and the Strike Unit behind them and a handful of Nightfolk scattered among the bridge crew, that didn’t seem likely. It didn’t _feel_ likely, either, but her grip on the Force wasn’t too steady right now—things wavered in and out of her perception like mirages.

Kylo’s hand closed on her elbow and she realized she’d drifted. He urged her to one side of the bridge, by a huge, triangular viewport that showed the _Precursor_ floating, shuttles running back and forth between her and the _Raptor_. Two Nightfolk glided near to flank them, likely at Kylo’s unspoken wish.

He studied her with one of his intent gazes. “What happened while I was out there?” He tipped his chin toward the viewports.

She frowned, not really sure what he was asking. “While I was in the Force,” she said slowly, “I saw all those fighters coming at you.”

“You did something,” he said. “They stopped firing.”

Rey blinked. “I— They did?”

His chin dipped in a nod.

“There were so _many_ of them,” she said, her voice hushed. “I could see our pilots’ lives going out, and I was afraid—” She bit her lip and went on. “I wanted them to just _stop_.”

Kylo still held her elbow. His fingers tightened. “You sent that intention to the Force.”

“I didn’t want you to be killed!” she said, defensive.

He was looking at her strangely. She felt a pulse of some strong emotion through the bond before he muted it.

“Could you do it again?” he said.

“I’m not sure what I did. Maybe?”

His intent look transferred to the viewport behind her. At last, his attention came back to her. “We’ll explore it later.” His hand on her arm softened. “You did well. It saved lives—ours _and_ theirs.”

She nodded. It should’ve made her feel better, but something tight coiled in her belly.

“The _Relentless_ will arrive soon,” he said and bent his head to catch her eyes. “You know what to do.”

“I know.”

“Tell me.”

She made a face. “Defend myself if I have to.”

“Rey.”

She glared at him, then blew out an annoyed breath. “Defend myself if I have to but stay out of the fighting.”

“Good. Don’t forget.”

“I won’t _forget_ , Kylo,” she said. “I spent fifteen years taking care of myself, remember?”

“That,” he said, “is what worries me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to Mr. Wizards for his active beta work on this chapter. He was very emphatic about what Kylo would do in that first scene. ;-)


	31. The Relentless

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which illusions are cast and traps are laid.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have I told you lately how much your ABSOLUTELY AWESOME comments make my week? 'Cause they really, truly do. I love each and every one of them. Thank you!
> 
> Another reminder about the naming contest for the hassash. Ideas? Let me know in the comments! So far, we have  
> Pyewacket  
> Kreet  
> Spike  
> Do you have a favorite?

The First Order star destroyer _Relentless_ dropped out of hyperspace, ion and laser cannons hot and TIE squadrons manned and ready. Studying the scene outside the bridge’s forward viewport, his hands clasped behind him, stood Captain Orlen Vach.

Most who met him called him a good-looking man. Not tall, but well-proportioned, square shoulders narrowing to a trim waist. His face was pleasing, too, with a straight nose and full lips framed by honey-colored hair just a shade or two lighter than his dark amber eyes.

_But those eyes_ , those who met him muttered when he was well away. _Cold as space and calculating as a targeting system_.

The pupils of Captain Vach’s eyes contracted, making them predator-bright when he saw the _Raptor_ drifting alone and undamaged.

“Sensors detect all weapons systems offline, sir,” the sensor officer said from the pit. “Emergency systems only operational.”

“Life signs?” Vach said.

“Yes, sir. The full crew complement, it appears.”

“Damage to the ship?”

“All external structures are intact. No signs of carbon scoring or ion blasts. However, I am detecting drifting debris indicating a starfighter skirmish.”

Vach pressed his lips together. “Have they responded to hails?”

“No, sir,” the communications officer said, light from her screens glowing on her face.

“Hail them again,” Vach said.

He waited as the hail went out. The bridge crew knew to work quietly. Only the murmur of voices, the beep of electronics and chatter of droids reached his ears.

“Still no response, sir,” the communications officer said.

Vach stood with perfect outward calm, no tension in the line of his shoulders or back, his hands still clasped loosely behind him.

_A_ Resurgent _-class star destroyer sends out a distress call, an attack by an unknown enemy_ , he thought. _Yet we arrive to find no signs of any such attack_.

He assessed and discarded several possibilities, arriving at one that seemed at once highly unlikely, yet also the most likely.

_Rakata_. A near-mythical race that had, tens of thousands of years ago, supposedly dominated the entire galaxy. Brutal. Merciless. Reputed to use technologies far beyond the understanding of any modern scientist. Only primitive, barbaric remnants of the ancient race remained, but there were rumors that some strove to restore their lost technology—and lost glory.

And Hux, with his insatiable appetite for new toys, had sent them on this fool’s errand in search of that technology.

Or so Orlen Vach had thought before responding to the _Raptor’s_ distress call.

One thumb and forefinger tapped together slowly, the only sign of his agitation.

“Dispatch a company of stormtroopers with fighter escort to the _Raptor_ ,” he said at last. “Let’s see what’s going on over there.”

* * *

Five assault landers, each carrying two squadrons of stormtroopers, glided into the _Raptor’s_ bow hangar. Company Captain LS-0097 stood in the cockpit, observing the approach as the TIE squadron swept around the ship, ready to intercept any possible attack.

The magnetic field generator was dark—the hangar would be unpressurized. The transport bumped and shuddered as the magnets in the landing gear engaged, locking it to the deck in the zero-G conditions. The whine and grind and _clunk_ of machinery sounded as they coupled to an airlock, then the hiss of rushing air as the airlock was pressurized. Small objects floated by outside the viewport—a hydrospanner, a welder’s shield, a TIE pilot’s helmet. LS-0098 repressed an instinctive shudder. The helmet looked disturbingly like a severed head.

He checked his blaster, stepped aft and moved between the ranks of his men to the airlock, his magnetic boots holding him to the deck in place of artificial gravity. The hatch hummed open. His held his breath, tensed and aimed his blaster at the hatch at the other end of the airlock. It opened…

The corridor beyond was empty.  Emergency lighting painted the bulkheads and deck a dim red.

The comlink in his helmet crackled to life. “Sensors show life signs approximately one hundred meters ahead, sir.”

“Weapons ready,” LS-0097 ordered his team. “Any sign of hostility, fire. Anyone who isn’t crew, fire at will.”

He stepped through the airlock, into the bloody dimness. There was only the clash of magnetic boots as they met the deck and released again, the harsh sound of his breaths in his helmet. Information streamed across his helmet’s visual display—distance to life signs on the ship, environmental conditions, positions of the other squadrons.

The corridor stretched ahead. Red lights at the base of bulkheads converged with distance, dim even with his helmet’s light enhancement. A red-edged door came up on their right. He motioned to his men. Three men, three blasters leveled, faced the door. LS-0097’s heart sped. The door hissed open.

Nothing. An empty control room, screens dark and glassy like dead eyes. LS-0097 let go the breath he’d been holding and motioned his squad on. A trooper stayed behind to secure the door.

His display counted down the meters to the life signs they’d detected. The skin of his spine crawled. The squadron clattered along the corridor. Ten meters to life signs. Five. Two.

Another red-lit door to the left stood closed. LS-0097 raised an arm to halt his squad. Troopers spread out to cover the corridor and door.

LS-0097 tightened his finger on his blaster’s trigger, raised his hand and touched the door controls. The door slid open.

He had an instant to register a huge man dressed all in black wielding an unstable plasma weapon. Even as his shocked brain supplied _Kylo Ren_ and _lightsaber_ , he was already firing. The lightsaber spun in a blurred circle of red, sending blaster bolts ricocheting wildly, then a tide of three-eyed, four-armed creatures spilled through the door.

Blinding terror gripped LS-0097, banded his chest, stopped his breath, quivered through his bowels. Every horror he’d ever seen boiled up behind his eyes. Running men and women mowed down by blaster fire in a city street. The screams of children in burning houses. The smell of blood and spilled guts and charred flesh. The twisting agony of convulsing muscles as a shock-prod hit him again and again after he’d kissed another cadet. The dread of one day becoming one of the men too old for active duty, put down like a sick animal—

He was dying, drowning. There was nothing, no hope, no use, nothing but pain and misery and despair. _Please, please, make it **stop**!_ He turned his blaster on himself, fumbling awkwardly for the trigger, the plastoid fingers of his gauntlets slipping and slipping again.

His anguish suddenly ebbed. He gasped a breath that burned down a throat raw from screaming. Something deep within him grew like a light glimmering upward through dark water. Frantic, he grasped for it.

Running, laughing children surrounded him. He carried a little boy on his shoulders as the child squealed in delight. He picked up a crying little girl and handed her to her mother.

He looked around, astonished, trying to grasp what had happened, where he was, what this strange, buoyant, swelling feeling in his chest was. A tall, slim young woman stood beside him, dressed like a beggar—sleeveless tunic over loose, knee-length trousers, her arms and torso wrapped in bindings of dirty, tattered gauze. She looked over and smiled at him.

In that instant, anything was possible. Everything. The laughing children. The grateful mother. The feeling of _happiness_ rising like a long-forgotten dream.

LS-0097 blinked back into the corridor aboard the _Raptor_. The members of his squad were scattered around him, some prone on the deck, others huddled against the bulkheads. TN-3476, curled in a moaning, rocking ball, slowly uncurled and pushed herself up.

Kylo Ren stood over them all, lightsaber blazing in his black-gloved hand. The woman LS-0097 had seen in his dream stood just behind him. He stared at her, confused. She didn’t wear dirty rags now, but a First Order captain’s uniform.

LS-0097 caught his breath. “You,” he whispered. “How…?”

Kylo Ren spoke, snatching his attention back. “Are you ready to make a change?”

After the horrors of his life, after the crushing despair of his future, LS-0097 knew he’d do anything to escape them, anything to make the bright hope he’d seen possible.

_* * *_

“Blaster fire detected on board the _Raptor_ , sir,” the sensor officer said from the pit at Captain Vach’s feet.

“Status of the ship,” Vach said with his usual cool.

“All but emergency systems still offline.” The sensor officer paused, intently studying his screens. “All firing ceased, sir.”

“Communications,” Vach barked.

The communications officer tapped at her panels, switching between frequencies. “Sir, I can’t get a response—” she began, touching her earpiece.

Suddenly, a voice came clear over the bridge speakers. “ _Relentless_ , this is company captain LS-0097. Situation contained.”

“Report,” Vach said. “What happened over there?”

“Pirates, sir,” the company captain said. “A species I’ve never seen before. They attacked with an unknown type of weaponry that incapacitated the _Raptor’s_ crew. We caught them by surprise. What are your orders, sir?”

Vach’s brows drew together ever so slightly. _What weaponry?_ he thought. How did ten squadrons of stormtroopers overcome it when the entire troop complement of a star destroyer—eight _thousand_ stormtroopers—was unable to?

“Ensure the situation is secure, then return,” Vach said. “How many pirates survived?”

“Eleven, sir.”

“I want them for interrogation. And I want appropriate command personnel from the _Raptor_ brought in for debriefing.”

“Yes, sir,” the company captain said.

“That will be all.” Vach motioned to the communications officer to end the communication. “I’ll be in my office,” he said to the bridge at large. “Notify me when those transports return. Have a full security detail on deck to meet them. I want every member of that team debriefed.”

“Yes, sir,” Commander Belan said. “Return to normal status?”

As he was walking away, Vach paused and cocked his head. “No, Commander. Weapons remain charged and ready. Any sign of aggression from the _Raptor_ , you have permission to fire.”

“Yes, sir.”

Vach nodded once and continued to his office, mentally composing his report to the Grand Admiral. He would flag it as a preliminary report, to be finalized after the debriefings.

_Pirates_. He stepped into his office, crossed to the viewport to gaze out at the _Raptor_ , drifting dark and helpless against the starfield. His eyes narrowed and his thumb and forefinger slowly tapped together. Perhaps he ought to consider a change of plans.

He tapped the comlink in his desk. “Lieutenant Evran, contact Company Captain LS-0097. Tell him to hold aboard the _Raptor_. Debriefing and interrogations will take place there.”

The lieutenant acknowledged and Vach switched off.

Something didn’t make sense here, and he intended to find out first-hand what it was.

* * *

Red emergency lighting illuminated the _Raptor’s_ bridge, making bloody-edged shadows of the men on the command deck. From their stations in the pit, the deck officers craned their necks to watch them, as silent as their darkened electronics. The _Relentless_ hung beyond the viewport, a menacing triangle that blotted out the stars behind it.

The _Raptor’s_ Captain Arkady didn’t show any outward alarm after the _Relentless’_ communication, but Kylo could sense it.

LS-0097, the company captain from the _Relentless_ , stood by them, his helmet tucked under his arm. His gaze kept flicking to Rey where she stood beside him. Kylo narrowed his eyes.

“Captain Vach knows something is off,” the man said. “You won’t get your people aboard the _Relentless_.”

Kylo just stared at him, wrestling with a hostility he hadn’t quite managed to place yet. The other man didn’t drop his gaze, but he shifted uneasily.

“With the _Relentless’_ captain coming here,” Kylo finally said, “he’s just made the task easier.”

* * *

Once, when he’d had a little too much to drink, Kylo’s father had made a joke about the first time he met his father-in-law.

“It was on Bespin, in Cloud City,” Han had said, leaning back on the sofa and crooking that scoundrel’s grin of his. “Ol’ Lando invited us, me ‘n Chewie and Leia, to this fancy dinner.”

Ben had watched his mother tense, her hand tightening on her knee. She’d shot Han a warning look, one he’d been too drunk to notice.

“The doors open…” Han made a dramatic gesture of opening. “…and there, at the head of the table, framed by the wide, blue sky through the windows behind him, he sat in all his black-cloaked glory—Darth Vader!”

“Han,” Leia said quietly. Too quietly.

Ben knew very well what that quiet meant. It meant the wrath of twenty star destroyers was about to be unleashed.

His father finally heard it, too, and glanced at Leia. Giving one of his disarming chuckles, he made a joke, everyone laughed, and he turned the conversation.

Ben had heard stories (mostly from his father) of the exciting, adventurous lives his parents had led before he came along. That Darth Vader had frozen his father in carbonite and when she tried to rescue him, his mother had been taken as a slave by some Hutt gangster on Tatooine. Uncle Luke had to come rescue everyone, but his mother had strangled the Hutt with her slave’s chains. That was always his favorite part of the story.

Knowing Han Solo the way he did, even as a child Ben was inclined to treat the stories as just stories. But this one puzzled him, because he never could figure out what Darth Vader had to do with fathers-in-law. His mother’s father had been Bail Organa, Senator and husband of Queen Breha of Alderaan.

Only much later did he understand.

Still, the image from Han’s story stuck with him. Back in his black tunic and cloak (but without his mask—it _did_ seem pretentious and childish now) Kylo seated himself at the head of the table in the _Raptor’s_ debriefing room, framed by the First Order emblem hanging on the wall behind him. Six grey-cloaked and hooded Nightfolk ranged behind him. He folded his gloved hands on the glossy tabletop and waited for Captain Vach’s entrance.

When the door opened, Vach did exactly what Kylo expected—exactly what Han Solo had done. He whipped out his blaster and fired at Kylo.

Kylo snapped up a hand, arrested the blaster bolts in midair. Another flick of the Force, and Vach slammed face-first into the table. His stormtrooper guard blasted backward, smashed into the corridor wall and tumbled to the floor in a clatter of plastoid armor. The Nightfolk poured around the table and descended on their prey.

Vach, bloody-faced, pushing himself up off the table, was the only one who didn’t scream.

* * *

Sudden anger blazed through the bond. Rey whipped around and moved for the door.

“Ma’am, wait,” YT-1365 said, “Where are—”

Rey stepped into the corridor. Everything was still dimly red-lit and silent, the corridor deserted. “Something’s happening with Kylo.”

Her two guards hurried out after her. “Ma’am, you’re to avoid the fighting—”

Rey waved a hand as she strode along. “I can _feel_ there isn’t any fighting.” _Yet_ , she thought, sensing Kylo’s anger grow.

“Our orders are—”

“Unless you plan to tie me up or shoot me, I’m going,” she said.

Her guards’ dismay roiling the Force behind her, Rey followed her sense of Kylo to double doors emblazoned with the First Order emblem. The doors slid open to show Kylo leaning over a table, and facing him, a blond man whose back was to her.

“Rey,” Kylo said sharply.

A strong sense of _go away_ came over the bond. She’d clearly walked in on a tense situation. Rey planted her feet. The blond man turned.

If not for the split lip and cheekbone, he might’ve been good-looking. But his _eyes_ —they reminded her of a ripper-raptor, a creature that would tear you apart if it glimpsed the slightest weakness. Rey raised her chin, wishing for her staff.

He took her in with a brief glance. “Ah. This must be the rebel girl.”

“She’s no rebel,” Kylo growled. “She’s with me.”

“Is that true, girl?” the man said. “Or is that First Order uniform just camouflage?”

She’d only been with the Resistance because Kylo Ren had made himself her enemy. Kylo Ren was First Order, so the First Order was her enemy, too. But Kylo wasn’t her enemy anymore. He wasn’t First Order anymore, either. And what remained of the Resistance had made it perfectly clear they didn’t consider her one of them.

She must’ve hesitated too long—Kylo was gazing at her intently. “I’m not Resistance,” she said.

“It’s no concern of yours what she is or isn’t,” Kylo said, drawing the man’s attention back to him. “What _is_ your concern is whether you’ll be useful to me.”

Those cold raptor-eyes fixed on Kylo. “Tell me why I should bring my ship under the command of a man with a bounty on his head. A bounty set by the Supreme Leader himself.” The blond man clasped his hands behind him. “The greater advantage seems to be redeeming my apostasy by turning you over to him.”

Rey felt the darkness coil in Kylo and remembered Hux splatted against the bulkhead of the command shuttle’s cockpit.

“That’s not what you believe,” Kylo said flatly. “I can _see_ your thoughts, Vach. Hux is your worst nightmare.”

“The damage Hux can do to the First Order with his fanaticism and insatiable ego is my _second_ worst nightmare,” Vach said. “My worst nightmare is seeing the First Order torn apart. Something, I might point out, you’ve already done a great deal to advance when you murdered Supreme Leader Snoke.”

Kylo’s fury boiled up like a sandstorm. He raised a hand, fingers crooked. Rey feigned a loud sneeze. He glanced sharply at her, but his hand lowered.

Rubbing her nose, she gave a convincing sniffle. “These ships are cold,” she said apologetically.

A flash of something that felt a little like irritation came through the bond, but there was too much amusement in it to be real irritation.

Kylo’s daunting attention returned to other man. “Snoke made mistakes. Starkiller was one,” he said. “Isn’t that why you’re out here? You thought the same?”

Vach bent his head in agreement. “I’m to believe you killed Snoke because you disagreed with his methods?”

“Murdering billions isn’t good governance,” Kylo snarled. “Nor will the Force allow it for long.”

Rey could _feel_ his revulsion. She’d heard about what had happened to the Hosnian system after she got to D’Qar. She’d felt the horror and outrage, the grief and despair when people whispered about it. It _was_ horrible, that anyone could even consider doing such a thing. Realizing that Kylo felt the same, something in her eased.

Vach barked a laugh. “Your mystical Force holds opinions on galactic politics?”

“Death on that scale creates a disturbance in the Force,” Kylo said. “It will respond by trying to balance itself. If not through me, then by some other means.”

The skin of Rey’s shoulders prickled.

“Yet Snoke, a Force-user as well, seemed undisturbed,” Vach said.

“Snoke’s perception was limited.”

“But yours isn’t, I suppose.”

“No,” Kylo said. “It isn’t.”

Was it because Snoke had been a darksider, and Kylo…wasn’t? Not entirely, anyway.

“You’re running out of time, Captain,” Kylo said. “I know how this works. If your commander doesn’t hear from you soon, he’ll attack the _Raptor_. I won’t allow that to happen.”

“Ah,” Vach said. “And yet you haven’t managed to persuade me.”

Remembering how Not-Finn—no, _Dare_ —had called Kylo “volatile,” Rey had a guess where this might go. Vach would be lucky if he _only_ got splatted against the wall behind him. Setting her jaw, she reached for the Force.

The table between Kylo and Vach shook, then with a loud _crack!,_ broke loose from the floor and began to rise. The chairs followed, drifting slowly upward. Vach only jerked back, but Rey felt the alarm that burst through him. She splayed her fingers and the chairs smashed into the walls. She kept pushing. With a screech and snap of crushing plastoid and metal, they crumpled flat against the walls. Kylo folded his arms and coolly watched the captain.

Rey still pushed. The walls themselves began to bow outward, groaning. Rivets popped, went pinging across the room like ricochets. Vach ducked and threw up a protective arm. The seams between panels burst open. Sparks sprayed from the torn wiring beneath. The smell of ozone unfurled in the air. The overhead lights flickered, flashing in Vach’s white-rimmed eyes. Rey crooked a finger and the First Order banner behind Kylo began to tear slowly from top to bottom.

Kylo didn’t even glance back. “I’ll tear Hux apart.” His hiss wove with the sound of ripping fabric. “And anyone who gets in my way. Will _you_ be in my way, Captain Vach?”

Rey could feel the captain’s thoughts racing—but surprisingly enough, not in panic. She was impressed in spite of herself.

“I’ve heard of Snoke’s abilities,” Vach said with amazing calm. “How he could touch someone across star systems.”

“Snoke didn’t survive me,” Kylo pointed out.

“Indeed. Yet I wonder if bending bulkheads will be enough to overcome Hux.”

“Depends on which bulkheads,” Rey said. She knew exactly which ones to bend that would cripple a star destroyer.

Vach turned an assessing stare on her. Kylo’s eyes blazed.

She released her grip on the Force. The chairs slid down the walls, the crushed pieces clattering to the floor. The table fell with a thud.

“Hux is proud of his big weapons,” Kylo said. “You see how quickly they were destroyed. He’s proud of his armies filled with stolen children. You see how quickly they turned.”

Vach tucked his chin. “Very well. I propose an agreement, then. We both agree that Hux is a problem. As long as I see you’re capable of removing him without destroying the First Order, I’ll throw in my lot with yours. But if you prove a greater liability, I shan’t hesitate to do my utmost to remove you.”

Kylo gave the man one of his forbidding stares. Vach met it without a flicker of fear. Rey didn’t like it.

“As long as you don’t become a liability to _me_ ,” Kylo said, “I accept.”


	32. Interference Lines

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the side effects of Rey's battle meditation are revealed, and Kylo and Rey revert to their familiar coping mechanisms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **KYLO REN ALERT!** Sorry. But he has, y'know, _reasons_.

_We did it_ , Kylo thought. The _Precursor._ The _Raptor._ Now the _Relentless._ He glanced out at the cruiser and the other star destroyer visible beyond the _Relentless’_ viewports and thought with fierce triumph, _**Mine**_.

Rey walked beside him—exactly where she belonged. All she’d done since the confrontation with the Nightfolk… She was growing into her power, becoming everything he knew she could be. When she’d demonstrated the power of the Force in the _Raptor’s_ debriefing room, she’d been positively incandescent.

He’d have to find her something to wear besides an officer’s uniform. Something that would convey her true worth.

Two officers approached along the corridor. They glanced at Rey, at him, then studiously away.

“You shouldn’t trust him,” Rey muttered when they passed. “That captain.”

“I don’t,” Kylo said. “That’s why we’re here, and not on the _Raptor_.”

She frowned. “I don’t like it.”

Her instincts were telling her to run.

“You aren’t powerless, Rey,” he said quietly.

“I _know_. That doesn’t mean I want to be in a ripper-raptor’s nest.”

He didn’t know what a ripper-raptor was, but the name was descriptive enough.

They walked in silence, discomfort and a spinning eddy of thoughts spreading outward from her like a wake.

“Was that true, what you said about the Force? After Starkiller?”

“Any Force-sensitive would feel it,” Kylo said. “Even Luke must’ve been able to, as far as he was.”

Rey shook her head. “He’d shut himself off from the Force. He didn’t know what happened until I told him.”

Kylo turned his head to stare at her. “He was _that_ afraid of me?”

She blinked. “I…guess so.” Her expression darkened. “He sure wanted me gone once he knew I was talking to you. Wanted me gone _worse_ ,” she corrected.

He didn’t want to think about Luke. He returned to her question, instead. “The Hosnian system was destroyed just before I arrived on Takodana. You told me you were in the woods because you were running from the visions you saw. It wasn’t only the visions that panicked you, Rey. You were reacting to the terror and death on Hosnian Prime, even if you didn’t know what you were feeling.”

She stopped, swallowed hard. “You said…the Force would try to balance itself…”

It was suddenly hard to breathe. “And I found you,” he said. “I was _drawn_ to you.”

She just stared at him. Pain flared through the bond. She tore her gaze away and started walking again.

“Rey?”

His sense of her was a roiling churn of pain and anger and something like shame. Something like he’d felt from her on Starkiller, when he’d mocked her for being a scavenger.

He reached for her. “Rey—”

A squadron of stormtroopers came around the corner. Kylo felt their attention sharpen on her, rippling from the troopers in front, back through the ranks as she came into view of those in the rear. He stiffened and reached for the Force, ready to stop an attack.

No blasters were drawn, no aggressive moves made. Suspicion prickled up his neck. Moving closer to Rey, he dipped into the troopers’ minds and met—

Not hostility. No intention of harm. No, the threat he felt from them was very different.

Appreciation. Admiration. Affection. _Attraction_.

Anger flared in his chest, quick and hot. He clenched his jaw, shutting the bond.

The troopers passed in a clatter of armor and a thump of boots on decking. He felt their stares on Rey, stares they believed he wouldn’t perceive through their helmets.

He reached out as he strode the corridors beside her, raking the mind of every trooper and tech, officer and cadet who passed. It was the same with each one. Even the _women_ were taken with her, gazing at her with open warmth and affection the instant before they registered Kylo’s presence.

He thought he’d quashed the problem back on the _Precursor_. Apparently not. Apparently every time she used her power to turn an enemy, he’d be forced to fight the same battle all over again—but with tens of thousands of crew, instead of only hundreds.

 _No_. This couldn’t be allowed to continue.

They continued in silence to the deck that housed the officers’ quarters. He found the one he’d selected for her, pulled off a glove and pressed his palm to the entry panel. Wordlessly, he took her hand and pressed it to the panel until it blinked blue, registering her credentials. The door slid open.

Rey stepped in and Kylo followed. The door closed behind them, but she didn’t turn. She seemed…drawn in on herself somehow, as if she felt threatened, or diminished. He wondered if she, too, felt the attention on her—

Or he might not have himself shielded as well as he thought.

He pushed out a breath and with it, the anger, the snarling need to defend what was his.

She just stood looking around the room. He crossed to the small desk all officers’ quarters held. Perching on the edge so he wouldn’t loom, he waited.

Her gaze finally landed on him, wary in a way he hadn’t seen in a while. “Now that you have your ships, what happens?”

“Hux is planning a coronation on Coruscant. Much of the fleet will be there. Not all—a few ships are in orbit above Corellia. After the destruction of the _Supremacy_ , the _Fulminator_ , and so many star destroyers, the fleet will need to be rebuilt. Hux intends to take Corellia, for its shipyards.”

“And you’ll take the ships there while he’s busy with his coronation?”

“ _We’ll_ take the ships there.”

Rey folded her arms. “How will that work? We took these ships one at a time. You’ll have to get the Nightfolk aboard the ships at Corellia all at once.”

“We won’t use the Nightfolk this time.”

“How, then?”

Kylo leaned forward. “The way you stopped the _Relentless’_ TIE squadrons from attacking.”

She eyed him. He didn’t need the bond to sense her unhappiness. _What_ , exactly, made her unhappy was another question. He folded his own arms and waited.

“So these new ships will just…” She gave a vague wave of the hand. “…give up?”

“They won’t have the will to fight. Then we’ll take them.”

“What’s to keep them from deciding to fight later?”

Irritation coiled in his middle. He concentrated on calming it. “I’ll make sure the command is willing to accept my orders.”

She abruptly turned her head, gazing across the room. After a moment, she turned back. “Kylo, these people joined us because we promised them something better.” She spoke quietly. “What you’re describing is no different than what they had.”

His heart rate picked up and the faint, metallic tang of anger bloomed on his tongue. “It _is_ different. It will be different. Do you think I’ll rule the way Hux does? The way Snoke did?”

Something flashed in her eyes. He wanted to open the bond to sense her better but didn’t dare allow her to sense him in his current state.

“This isn’t about _ruling_ ,” she said. “It’s about what we’re doing now.”

He pushed off the desk, straightening. “What do you object to?”

“I _object_ to tricking people.” Her voice rose. “Making them think they’re getting something they should never should’ve hoped for to begin with.”

“By removing Hux?”

“Do you think Hux will just let himself be removed?”

“No,” he said flatly. “That’s why I need more ships.”

“So I’ll help you get the ships at Corellia. You’ll take those, and I’ll do the same to more, until you have enough to fight him.”

Something in him relaxed. “Yes. Hux will lose ship after ship, and never know why.”

She looked away again, her brows drawn and lips tight. He wondered what she was thinking. She knew ships inside and out, but he doubted she knew much battle strategy, if any. He’d explain en route to Corellia.

Finally, she turned back. “No.”

Everything in him shuddered to a stop. “No,” he repeated, disbelieving. “What do you mean, ‘ _no?’”_

“I mean, _no_ , I’m not going to make people believe in…in…” She waved a hand. “…things they’ve spent their whole lives _longing_ for, dreams that kept them _alive_ , and then stomp them into the dust.” She clenched her fists and leaned forward as if bracing herself. “I won’t do it.”

Anger blazed, as sharp and hot as in the corridor. “You’d rather let them fight and die?”

“That’s up to you, isn’t it?”

He’d never been so angry with her. Not when she’d slashed his face, not when she’d shot at and cursed him. He hadn’t believed it was possible to be this angry with her.

“Not me.” His voice had that strained edge to it. “We’re going to Corellia. We’ll see what you do when we get there.”

Kylo brushed past her, too angry to even look at her. It was all he could do to keep from punching the door out its frame with the Force as he strode out of the room.

* * *

Rey stared, unseeing, at the closed door for a long time. Too long.

 _Move_ , she told herself. _Now. You don’t have time for this_.

She opened herself enough to feel for Kylo’s presence in the Force—he was still moving away. Quickly. His anger licked like fire.

She was shaking—with fury, with disappointment and pain. It was Snoke’s throne room all over again. _Ruling_ , that was all he cared about. Not people’s lives.

Certainly not _her_.

She should’ve known. Verrannallu had even tried to warn her, but she hadn’t wanted to listen.

The door whispered open at her touch and she stepped through. She moved quickly along the corridors, but not too fast. Still, too many people seemed to notice her. She reached for the Force to push their attention away—

—And remembered the flight control deck on the _Finalizer_. How she’d opened the door to find Kylo standing _right outside_ , knowing she was there, knowing she’d done something.

Not this time.

She raised her mental shields, shutting herself off from the bond, from the Force. Let the people she passed look at her. So what? By the time anyone thought to say anything, it would be too late.

She knew exactly where to go—hadn’t she been crawling around in ships like this since she was old enough to hold a hydrospanner? She pushed aside guilt when the officers she passed smiled and nodded at her. They wouldn’t be smiling much soon, no matter what she did.

Finally, a hatch opened on the _Relentless’_ flag hangar, where they’d docked the shuttle when they arrived. It wasn’t as large as the primary hangars, intended for command shuttles and the private craft of visiting dignitaries.

On one hand, it would be the most obvious place for her to go. On the other, it’d be quieter, and a departing shuttle wouldn’t be questioned as closely. She hoped. Personnel must still be shuttling in from the _Precursor_ , or they’d already be in hyperspace.

Rey stepped through the hatch, scanning the hangar. A group of Nighfolk glided across the shining black deck. She felt them graze her shields, not trying to breach them, but probably wondering why they were in place. She kept walking, not flinching under their scrutiny, but not letting them in, either. If they thought she was shielding herself from _them_ , so much the better.

Without a backward glance, she walked up the shuttle’s ramp. The cabin was empty. The pilot and copilot were still aboard, their voices drifting back from the cockpit.

“Hello,” Rey called.

The pilot turned as she stepped into the cockpit. It was the same woman who’d piloted when Rey and Kylo arrived.

The pilot dipped her chin in a respectful nod. “Ma’am. Can I help you?”

“Are you returning to the _Raptor?”_ Rey was used to this, showing just the right combination of confidence and friendliness. _I’m not a problem_ , her attitude said. _I’m not a pushover, either_.

“No, ma’am,” the pilot said. “This was our last run before we go to lightspeed.”

Rey didn’t need the Force to sense the woman’s curiosity and caution—Rey might be Kylo Ren’s partner and wear a First Order uniform, but she’d bet just about everyone knew she wasn’t First Order.

“Oh.” Rey feigned disappointment. “Well, I guess I’ll have to wait until we get to Corellia.”

At the mention of Corellia, the caution disappeared from the pilot’s face. “Yes, ma’am.”

Rey turned back to the cabin, and the pilot and copilot resumed their shutdown sequence.

She made a point of making noise as she descended the ramp. She also made sure she was absolutely silent returning up it. Taking advantage of the pilot and copilot’s distraction, she slipped into the shuttle’s ‘fresher. She pulled the door closed and quietly opened the access panel under the sink.

* * *

Kylo stormed through the corridors. How could Rey so casually refuse him? She hadn’t made even the slightest attempt to understand what he was trying to do, to see how rational his plan was. He thought they were past that. He thought she trusted him better than that.

He clenched a fist, breathing hard. Obviously, he’d been wrong.

He stepped onto the _Relentless’_ bridge, the familiar quiet bustle of officers going about their duties in the pit, the watchfulness of the stormtroopers assigned there, the whirr of messenger droids moving across the deck. A thread of vague uneasiness twisted through him. He glanced at the four Nightfolk who stood to one side of the bridge.

 _What troubles you, brother?_ they asked.

 _Have you heard anything of concern?_ he thought back.

One of them turned toward Vach. _The leader has no loyalty to you_.

 _No_ , he agreed. _Watch him_.

 _The Bright-one? She has given you pain_.

Pain. _Pain_ wasn’t what she’d given him.

 _A disagreement_ , he assured them. _I’ll deal with her_.

Kylo reached out with the Force for the minds around him, scenting for any trace of treachery. He sensed Captain Vach’s skepticism and calculation, but the rest of the bridge crew was focused on simply doing their tasks.

Vach turned to Kylo as he approached and gave him a cool glance. “We’ll need to discuss your plans. I hold you to your assurance—we won’t be fighting our own.”

“It’s not in my interest to fight our own,” Kylo said. “Only to destroy Hux.”

Still, the uneasiness grew, creeping up the back of his neck. He reached out farther, beyond the bridge, questing through the ship.

The sensation reminded him of Snoke, the way he was always aware of his prying, his whispers. His stomach twisted and he shuddered. No. There was no whisper, no sickening, gut-crawling sense of violation. Snoke was dead. He was dead. He’d killed him, cut him in half. The whispers in his mind were silent.

His mind was silent.

The _bond_ was silent.

Kylo stiffened, his heart suddenly thundering. It wasn’t a presence that bothered him, but an absence—the absence of the bond’s constant, comforting hum.

He reached out through it, through the Force and met only blankness where Rey should be. Cold fire shot through his veins. He turned, panic whiting out his mind. The voices of captain and crew became a meaningless buzz in his ears.

“Sir. We have an unsanctioned departure from Hangar One.”

The bridge snapped back into focus. “ _What?”_ Kylo said.

“The _Raptor’s_ command shuttle, sir,” the security officer said from the pit.

Rage burned away the panic. Kylo suddenly knew exactly why Rey had disappeared from his perception. “Lock out the controls. Tractor it in. _Now_.”

Whatever was in his voice made alarm spike through every crewmember on the bridge. Men and women visibly jumped.

“Sir, shall I hail—” the communications officer began.

“No hail,” Kylo snapped.

“Get a security team down there,” Vach ordered. “If they don’t surrender, use appropriate force—”

“No,” Kylo broke in. “I’ll deal with it. Don’t bring in that shuttle until I’m there.”

He remembered hunting her on Starkiller Base, her powers barely emerged, as she slipped like a ghost through an unfamiliar facility. If she got off that shuttle now and went to ground in something as familiar as a star destroyer, he’d never find her before she escaped.

Vach watched him with a cool, evaluating stare. “This is a problem you’re aware of?”

“None that concerns you. _Keep everyone out of my way_ ,” Kylo snarled

He turned, a black storm, and swept off the bridge.

In the corridors, people pressed themselves to bulkheads as he passed. If he could’ve forced the lift into freefall without killing himself when it hit bottom, he would have. Bright flashes burst at the corners of his vision by the time the lift doors opened.

He stepped out. The hanger was deserted, the shuttle hovering just beyond the pressurizing field. As he watched, it drifted through the field and set down gently, its engines already powered down by the systems lock-out.

Kylo stormed across the deck. The shuttle’s boarding ramp remained up. A sweep of his hand and it clicked, whined downward. He jumped onto it before it fully descended and strode inside.

The cabin was clearly empty. He used the Force to drag the boarding ramp up again, ignited his lightsaber and jabbed it into the controls. Sparks sprayed. Metal melted and sagged. She wouldn’t slip out behind him now.

He continued forward, to the cockpit, his steps ringing on the metal deck. Facing the closed door, he found his fists clenched. He held his lightsaber ready in case she tried to shoot him.

“Rey,” he ground out. “Open the door.”

Nothing. No sound but his harsh breaths and the spit and crackle of his lightsaber. He didn’t bother with the control panel. Just thrust one hand to the side. The door wrenched open.

He caught a flash of movement from the corner of his eye. His hand snapped up, caught the descending end of Rey’s staff before he even saw her stepping out from where she’d pressed against the bulkhead. Wheeling, he threw her off balance, dropped his weapon and grabbed the staff with his other hand. Her feet scrabbled for purchase on the slick deck as he drove her backwards. He didn’t need to use the Force—mass and strength were enough.

He thrust her back into a chair then held her pinned with the staff across her collarbone, her hands curled and trapped behind it.

“Where,” he growled, his face inches from hers, “are you going?”

“I won’t be your weapon,” she spat back at him. “You want to go rampaging across the galaxy? You’ll do it without me. I’m not your _tool_. You aren’t going to use me.”

She might’ve slapped him. “ _Use_ you. Is that what you think I’m doing?”

Her eyes shined with the suspicion of tears.  “What would you call it, when the only reason I’m here is because of the Force?”

His stomach clenched. “Who said that?”

“You did! The Force _drew you to me_. The _Force_.” She spat the word as if she hated it.

“You don’t understand—”

She overrode him. “No, _you_ don’t understand! I won’t be your little scavenger, crawling in the dirt and the dark to do what you can’t.”

He jerked back, releasing her. She snapped forward, her hands falling to fist on her knees.

“What do you want from me?” she shouted. “Tell me what you want!”

“You know what I want.”

“What? What you said before? Something new? To rule? Because if you want to rule, that’s nothing new. So what is it?”

He couldn’t believe she could be so oblivious, or so willfully blind. “ _Together_ ,” he said. “With _you_.”

“Because of the Force,” she sneered.

“No, Rey. _No_. _Not_ because of the Force.”

“And what if I don’t want to rule?”

Kylo was struck speechless. Memories turned in his mind, fitting together into new shapes.

He remembered the look on her face in the throne room, the tears streaking her cheeks. The agonizing seconds of silence as he held out his hand to her. His growing dread that it was all going wrong, but he didn’t know why. He was offering her _everything_. All the times he’d wondered, if disaster hadn’t intervened at that precise moment, what _would_ she have done?

Would she have done _this_ —tried to escape him again?

Fear clenched in his chest. He found himself shaking, suddenly certain the rest of his life would hinge on his answer now. Dropping her staff, he knelt by her and opened himself—the bond, his mind, his heart.

“Rey.” His voice was low, harsh, but only because he struggled to keep it from breaking. “Don’t run away. Please. I’ll let you go if it ever comes to that. I swear it. But don’t run away. I can’t—” His voice did break.

He struggled for control, willing her to understand how much she meant to him. How vulnerable she made him—and how strong. How when she was by him, the storm inside him calmed. He could think beyond the urges of the darkness that lived in him. How everything made sense. Anything was possible.

He realized he gripped her hand tightly, holding the fist she’d made closed. He loosened his hold and her hand softened in his.

Her other hand rose, touched his scarred cheek. “What do you want, Ben?” she whispered.

 _You. Since I saw you, you’re all I’ve ever wanted_.

He knew she read that—how could she help but?

She made a face and gave an annoyed jerk of the chin. “No, what do you want for _you?_ What do you want for your life?”

Pain took his breath away. How could she _reject_ —

He stopped, forced himself to back up. To listen. To _feel_.

This wasn’t rejection. This was a gift. She was offering him what no one ever had. She was telling him, _Don’t sell yourself for **me**._ _Don’t cut off parts of yourself for **my** sake_.

He looked up at her, marveling. Her own fierce independence wouldn’t let her take his freedom. He might have to pay for his choices, but she wouldn’t take them from him.

It was hard, digging down into the darkness to find what he’d spent his life struggling for—against—just struggling and never knowing why. Even thinking about it woke the violence, the rage. He tried to push what he felt through the bond

“No, Ben. Say it.” Her hand on his face gave him a little shake. “ _Say it_.”

A broken huff of a laugh escaped him. Oh, she was ruthless, this abandoned scavenger girl. Anything he showed her, she gave him right back. But she did manage to break him free of the whirlpool that threatened to drag him down again.

“I want to just _live_. I don’t want anyone— _forcing_ —things on me. _Doing_ things to me. Taking what’s _mine_. I want to be _who I am_.” His voice had that mad edge despite him. “I want—I want—”

She put her hands on his shoulders, quieting him. “That’s what everyone wants. It’s what _I_ want. To be able to just live without being afraid someone will come and take away everything that matters. Without waiting for someone to try to humiliate you or hurt you or crush you. To be _safe_. Don’t you see, Ben? That’s why I don’t ever want to rule. Because ruling means taking away from someone else. I know what it’s like. To have nothing. To be nothing. To be nobody. I can’t do that to anyone else.”

“You’re not nothing,” he said fiercely. It was what he should’ve told her in the throne room, but it had come out all wrong.

Her gaze slid away, pain twisting through the bond. He couldn’t read her thoughts, but their direction was clear enough.

He gripped her hands hard. “You—are—not—nothing. I’m not here because of the Force, Rey. I’m here because of _you_.”

She shook her head, her eyes wide and lost. “But why?” The tears spilled over, gleaming tracks down her cheeks. “No one wanted me. They left me alone in the desert.”

He’d never seen her so vulnerable. Not when he captured her, not even when she told him about the cave on Ahch-To. With a shock, he realized how deeply she’d been wounded, believing she was only an instrument, a thing that had no value to him beyond its usefulness. He vowed he’d never allow her to feel that way again.

“You aren’t alone in the desert anymore,” he said willing her to listen, to believe him. “You’re with _me_. _I_ want you.”

He saw in her face, felt through the bond that it was exactly what she needed. And he saw—

Against darkness, a web of light spun outward through the Force, the two of them at its center. He watched it spread, enveloping system after system, planet after planet, threading through every life it touched. _Balance_.

As quickly as it had come, the vision faded, leaving him with simple certainty. It wasn’t only what she gave him. He gave in return. Where one was weak and uncertain, the other was strong. What one lacked, the other possessed. It was an ever-changing balance like a perfect dance of swords, rise and swing and parry, but it was still balance.

She just gazed at him, fragile hope blooming on her face.

He wiped her tears with his thumb. “I’m with you as long as you want me,” he promised her.

Closing her eyes, she leaned into his hand a moment. She sniffled, cleared her throat. “What do we do now?”

He stood, pulling her up with him. “We talk.”

* * *

 _ **I** want you_.

How could simple words make her feel so warm and valued and relieved? Except it was more than just the words. It was everything he did. No matter how hard she fought him or how much they argued, Kylo never turned away from her. He didn’t abandon her. He wasn’t using her.

Part of her didn’t want to accept it. It was easier, _safer_ to believe she was only useful, that sooner or later, she’d just be discarded again when she wasn’t anymore. But what she’d felt through the bond—his intensity of feeling, his soul-deep longing—wouldn’t let her deny it.

The bond was still open—he hadn’t shut himself off as he often did. Even now, Rey felt the worry and uncertainty that rippled through him, the undercurrent of fear that he’d lose her.

Memory replayed through her mind: that moment before everything had blown up on the _Supremacy_ , Kylo’s hand outstretched as she’d hung balanced on the edge of rejection.

Cold realization flooded her, stopping her breath.

She’d come within a heartbeat of destroying him. After promising that he wasn’t alone, she’d been ready to give up on him at the first real test. To let anger and fear rule her…

Just like Luke had.

She hugged herself, overcome by shame.

“Rey?” he said.

She looked at him where he sat beside her on her bed, watching her anxiously. She could only imagine what he sensed through the bond, certain it couldn’t be reassuring.

She took his big hand in both hers, held it tight. “I’m sorry, Kylo,” she blurted. “I should’ve tried harder to talk to you.”

His head jerked in dismissal. “You did. I wouldn’t listen.”

He thought she was talking about _this_ time. She couldn’t tell him what she meant, not now, when things were still so raw. “I don’t know how to do this. How…how…to fix things when they go wrong.”

“Yeah, me neither,” he said.

She couldn’t help the twitch of her lips, remembering the last time he’d said that. How casually resigned he’d sounded, just before she turned to see him in all his unclothed glory.

“Maybe it’s like the Force,” she said. “Maybe we just have to _decide_ to fix them.”

“I want to,” he said. “Whatever it takes.”

Her heart squeezed. He meant it.

She ran her thumb back and forth across the supple leather of his glove. “We can’t start by betraying people.”

He gave her one of his intense looks. She fought an impulse to squirm under it.

“Dreams that kept them alive,” he said. “I know what dream kept you alive, Rey. I saw it.”

 _That someone loved me. That they’d been looking for me all this time and sooner or later, they’d find me_. She broke from his gaze, suddenly feeling horribly exposed.

His hand turned, enclosing hers. “I will never betray it.”

Her throat was suddenly too tight to swallow. “Ben…” she choked out, then set her jaw and said fiercely, “I won’t betray yours.”

He drew her to him, held her tight, his face pressed to her neck. She wrapped her arms around him, holding him just as tightly.

It was a place to begin. The sure, solid anchor for your rope before you began to climb into some dark and unknown place.

At last, he pulled back. “Tell me what you want to do.”

She took a breath. “You need to think like a scavenger. First, we have to survive. If we don’t, none of this,” she gestured to indicate the ships, “makes any difference.”

She didn’t need the bond to tell he didn’t like it. “Go on,” he said.

“A scavenger is always looking for what’s useful. You have to find out what people want, then figure out how to make it work with what _you_ want.”

“I know what Hux wants. It’s incompatible with what I want.”

“How will Hux get what he wants?” she said.

“He’ll simply take it,” he said then added with a growl, “The way he already has.”

“What if people don’t want to give it?”

Kylo gave her a look like, _Really?_

“I’m serious,” she said. “Find those people, find out what they want. Then you have something to work with. A way to start bargaining.”

“You mean ‘we.’”

She savored the statement, then agreed softly, “We.”

He thought a moment. “You need a lightsaber.”

Rey blinked, knocked sideways. “I— What?”

“It will remind you what you are. Your place in all this.”

“But you said I—” _You have no place in this story_.

“I don’t say things the way I should,” he broke in, anger flaring over the bond. She had the impression it was at himself, though, not her. “And you don’t need me to tell you,” he went on. “You know. You can feel it, the same as I do.”

Again and again, he surprised her. Offering to teach her. Killing Snoke for her. Calling the lightsaber to her hand after he did. Drawing her into her power. Now this—adding to her strength, building her up when her whole life had been a struggle against everything that had tried to grind her into nothing.

The feeling that swelled through her was almost painful in its intensity, like nothing she’d ever felt before. She thought she might burst with it.

She squeezed her eyes shut and pressed her face to his shoulder, tears silently sliding down her cheeks. His hand came up to cradle her head.

What she felt from him was like being wrapped in the warmest, softest blanket when you’d been left outside to shiver in a cold, lonely night. As she savored the feel of his arms and emotions enfolding her, her tears slowly ebbed.

When she finally calmed, he said, “The difficulty won’t be building the weapon, but in finding a kyber crystal.”

Rey smiled in spite of herself. He was so focused on this, she could tell it meant more than it seemed.

“The Empire looted planets for their kybers when the Death Stars were built,” he went on. “You can still find them on Cristophsis, or Jedha. Christophsis is dangerous. On Jedha, the surface crystals were stripped.” He thought a moment. “We could try Jedha. You’re strong. A lost crystal might call to you.”

“Call?”

He pulled off his glove and held out a hand. “I’ll show you.”

Rey took his hand and slipped into a memory.

A young Ben Solo, all long legs and hands and feet he had yet to grow into, stood in a crystal cave glowing with its own light. Eerie music sounded in an atmosphere that throbbed with interconnected awarenesses. He wandered, his fingers brushing the gleaming walls. Crystals quivered under his touch, singing eager songs that somehow sounded like _Me! Me! Pick me!_ He drifted on, drawn by one song sweeter and more harmonious than any other—

Rey gasped and gripped his hand hard, blinking back into her quarters aboard the _Relentless_. “I have one!”

Kylo’s grip tightened, too. “ _What?_ How?”

“I found it, when I was scavenging in the _Ravager_. I was…oh, I don’t know. Maybe ten? Not long after I found my AT-AT. I thought I heard music coming from somewhere in the dark. I kept following it, deeper and deeper. I finally ended up in the cargo hold, which I thought had to be a complete waste of time since everything good had been taken since before I was born.”

Kylo listened silently and intently, the way he had when she’d told him about the cave on Ahch-To.

“There was a crushed box gutted open, full of sparkly sand,” she went on. “I dug through it—I don’t know why. It’s not like Jakku isn’t nothing _but_ sand. But this… _tingled_ …like it was dancing on my skin. That music was in my head, singing to me. I felt like those times I just _knew_ I was on to a good piece of salvage, one that would get me enough portions to last weeks.”

He didn’t speak, but the bond quivered with a strange combination pain and excitement.

“I finally felt something, something warm that buzzed against my fingers. I pulled it out. It was just a clear piece of rock. I thought I should be disappointed, because I wouldn’t get anything for a chunk of rock, but looking at it, I felt so happy. It didn’t make sense. Then it started to glow, a spark of green in the middle, at first. The green spread, and soon the whole crystal was glowing.”

They still held hands. She let him see what she told him, the crystal illuminating a child’s thin, dirty hands, the green glow glittering on the sand that dusted her skin.

But where Ben had walked through a luminous cave, she’d crept through a black cavern. While the air around him was filled with the songs of many voices, the vast hush around her was broken by only a single, lonely call.

Kylo’s eyes gleamed with eagerness and amazement. “Rey,” he said, very low, like he was struggling to control himself. “What happened to it?”

“I kept it. It’s in my shelter. On Jakku.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The thing I found saddest about the throne room scene is that I don't think Kylo knows what he did wrong, why Rey refused him. He killed his master to save her, fought beside her, offered her everything he had to give. You can see it in his face in that final Force bond session on Crait, the broken-hearted "Why?" in his eyes that moment he realizes he's lost everything that has meaning.


	33. Back to Jakku

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Kylo discovers that Rey's home wasn't sweet, and Rey realizes that you can never go home again.

The last time Kylo had seen Jakku had been from the cockpit of his command shuttle, through the eyes of his mask. He’d never thought then there would be anything to bring him back to the worthless, desolate place.

Only one thing could.

He angled his Silencer into Jakku’s atmosphere. The glow of superheated gasses against the deflector shields blotted out the globe’s leprous brown.

“Your creature is _touching_ me,” Rey said behind him.

“He’s always touching you,” he replied. “You should be used to it by now.”

“Well, I’m not. Can’t it ride on you?”

“I’m piloting,” Kylo pointed out. “I’m sure you’ve endured worse.”

“Yeah, like being strapped to an interrogation chair while a _creature in a mask_ stared at me,” she muttered.

He allowed himself a wince, knowing she couldn’t see it.

They flew in silence broken only by the muted howl of the engines, the bump and muffled thunder of atmosphere against the shields. The ship finally slowed enough to glide smoothly, the shields reshaping to form an airfoil. A craft shaped like a TIE could never fly in atmosphere otherwise.

“Where was your shelter?” he said over his shoulder

“In the Goazon Badlands, west of Pilgrim’s Road, before the Sinking Fields,” Rey said.

He turned his head but couldn’t see her in the gunner’s chair. “That isn’t a location I can plug into the navicomputer.”

She gusted a sigh. “Just find Niima Outpost and head southeast, then, but don’t go too low until you’re out of sight. I really don’t want Unkar Plutt and his thugs to come sniffing around.”

“I’d be _pleased_ to meet Unkar Plutt,” Kylo said with real relish.

Rey made a noise he interpreted to mean that she didn’t feel the same.

Nevertheless, he waited to dip down low enough for visual navigation until Niima was behind a ridge. Rey came to lean over his shoulder and watch out the cockpit viewport.

Finally, she pointed off to the left. “There. See it? The AT-AT toppled on its side. There’s the cockpit and the front leg.”

He maneuvered the Silencer for a landing.

“Don’t land too close,” she said. “You’ll set off my traps.”

She’d been gone for weeks. He suspected her traps had already been set off.

He swung the Silencer behind a low dune and set down. They climbed out of the ship and jumped down onto the sand.

The fierce blaze of Jakku’s sun turned his black hair uncomfortably hot, even this early in the morning. The recycled air of starships tended to be dry, but the air here threatened to suck all the moisture out of him. Rey struck off confidently. The hassash hopped ahead, giving little squeaks of protest each time a limb touched the sand.

Kylo had seen her shelter in her memories. To see it with his own eyes made something in his gut twist tight.

This was how she’d lived for half her life, in a wrecked armored combat vehicle far from anyone, surrounded by boobytraps.

The implications weren’t lost on him. This was a fortress, dubious protection from all the dangers a girl alone would face in a violent, lawless place. He was torn between remorse for the careless way he’d handled her in the beginning and respect for her strength and resilience.

With a practiced, sliding gait, she walked across the sand ahead of him, her staff in hand, her head turning left and right. She stopped near a scattering of metal bits and bent down.

“Ha!” she said, straightening. “Got one! Too bad for them. It’s not like they didn’t know.”

Following in her tracks, Kylo looked down. Some rusty fluid stuck a patch of sand together—blood. He reached out through the Force. Various metallic items were buried in a rough circle around the AT-AT. The lines of tripwires ran under the sand. He was more careful about following in her footsteps, pausing only to study the TIE solar panels welded to the vehicle’s dorsal surface to provide power.

The hassash leapt from footprint to footprint, keeping to the cooler sand exposed where Rey stepped. When they neared the walker, it scuttled into the block of shade it cast.

She stopped in the rough courtyard formed by the AT-AT’s legs, clenched her fists and growled. He followed her gaze. A dark gap showed in the vehicle’s belly, opening to the troop compartment beyond. He sensed her anger and outrage. However grim it might be, this had been her home. And it had clearly been violated.

Muttering what might’ve been a curse, she moved carefully forward, poking the sand ahead with her staff. “In case anyone thought to return the favor,” she explained over her shoulder.

Kylo sensed around them but encountered no sentient minds for kliks around. Ducking through the belly’s auxiliary hatch, he followed her into the walker. It took a moment for his eyes to adjust to the dimness inside.

Broken bits were strewn everywhere. A piece of canvas wound with cable lay in a wad in one corner. What looked like a workbench was tipped on its side on the floor. As far as he could see, nothing of value had been left behind—or left whole.

From the fury he felt in her, he expected her to erupt in a rage of the sort that had afflicted him not so long ago. Instead, she turned a slow circle, taking it all in, then began sifting through the debris.

She picked out a capacitor shell that looked strangely vase-like, then cast around, searching for something else. With a small cry, she snatched up a twist of orange fabric and twine, clutching it to her chest. He stared at it, then realized it was a doll, rudely made, as if by a child. He swallowed hard on a suddenly constricted throat.

Still clutching the doll, she waded through the trash that had once been her belongings. “They took my computer,” she said with amazing calm. “I _built_ that computer.”

He took a step toward her. “Rey, it doesn’t matter.”

She stalked over to the workbench, grabbed hold of it and heaved it upright. The thundering crash it made suggested how heavy it was.

“Do you have any idea how hard I worked for all this? Do you know how long it took me to find it? How many times I had to _go without eating_ to get some of it?”

“No. I don’t,” he said. “I can’t. But you don’t need it anymore. When we’re done here, you’re never coming back.”  

She moved to the canvas bundle and began untangling the cable around it, hindered by the doll she wouldn’t put down.

He imagined her, all alone in this dismal place, that sad, ragged thing a poor substitute for the love and care she should’ve had. This time it was his heart that twisted.

He abruptly crossed to her, pulled the heavy mess of fabric and cable out of her hand. “Let me.” He unwound the cable. “Is this where you kept the kyber?”

She blinked, and he had the impression it was the first thing he’d said that she actually heard.

“Oh. Yes.” She looked down at the doll, then up at him, embarrassed. She quickly put it down on an overturned box.

Holding her eyes, he reached over, picked up the doll and tucked it into his belt. Her eyes welled with tears.

Blinking hard, she broke from his gaze and took another end of cable. Between the two of them, they began to make some progress untangling it.

“I stitched it into my hammock. There’re a hundred other places I could hide it, but it felt… _wrong_ to have it too far away.”

“It would,” he said. “A bonded crystal doesn’t like to be away from its owner.”

Her gaze flicked to his lightsaber.

“Yes,” he said, reading her unspoken question. “Mine is content to be with you.”

“Oh,” she whispered, her eyes going wide.

“Let’s find yours,” he said. “Did you hear it? When we landed?”

“I—” Her brows drew together. “I think I did.” She cocked her head, moved her hand over the heavy lump of canvas. “Yes! It’s still here. They didn’t get it. When I saw the rest—” She broke off and attacked the twisted cable with renewed determination.

The wad was gradually revealed to be, yes, a hammock. He watched as Rey fastened one end to a ring welded to a wall scratched with thousands of hash marks, the newest still bright, the oldest faded almost dark enough to blend into the wall.

When he’d looked into her mind on Starkiller, he’d seen the marks on the wall. They loomed large in her thoughts, tinged with determination and desperation, something she clung to as tightly as that poor doll.

He remembered what she’d told him in the vision they shared: _Mark every day since the terrible thing so you never forget who you are or where you’re trying to go_. He had a guess now what those marks might represent.

He looked down again to find her watching him.

She turned to the wall, brushed the marks with one hand. “Every mark was one day closer to when someone would come back for me.”

“Someone did come for you,” Kylo said quietly. “Just not here.”

He felt the way the words rocked her. Her lips parted.

“You were here, weren’t you?” she said. “Looking for BB-8 and Finn.”

“Looking for the map, yes.”

He found he didn’t object to “Finn” so much as a traitor as for his attachment to Rey. The man had gone to Starkiller for her. He’d tried to fight Kylo for her.

She was looking at him like she was trying to solve some puzzle. He thought he understood what it was.

“I didn’t sense you through the Force then,” he said. “Later. On the _Finalizer_. I felt…” He remembered. Hunched in front of his grandfather’s helmet, the relentless hunger, painful in its intensity, his prayer for it to _stop_. “The call to the light,” he said, half to himself—

Then instantly wished he hadn’t. “Not the Force, Rey,” he said before she could begin to run away with assumptions. “ _You_. I didn’t know it then. The same way your crystal called to you, there in the dark of a dead ship.”

Emotions flickered across her face—deep uncertainty shifting to amazement to softness.

“I don’t know if I sensed you,” she said. “The night before I found BB-8, I had the strangest feeling, like…like I was waiting. Not waiting the way I had been, but like something was coming. Like everything was about to change.” She was quiet a moment. “That night I dreamt I stood at the top of a dune. It was night. The wind was blowing. There was a shadow at the bottom of the dune so dark I couldn’t see anything, but I knew the thing I was waiting for was there and I had to go find it. I _had_ to. I ran down the dune’s face, faster and faster, then I tripped and fell. First I was rolling, then the shadow swept up around me and I was _flying_. I was afraid, but also excited and happy and _free_ , like I could do anything. I remember the dream because it felt so real, the next morning, early, while the sun was still low, I ran down the side of a dune and jumped into the shadow.” She gave him a sheepish glance. “Of course, I just landed in the sand again.”

He sometimes forgot how young she was—only a handful of years since she was a child.

“You must’ve sensed something,” he said. “You weren’t yet attuned enough to the Force to define it.”

He wondered what would’ve happened if he’d found her that night. Would he have taken her to Snoke? Or would he have seen her for the gift she was and escaped with her…

“What I did to you. Frightening you,” he said. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know. I was—”

“I know, Kylo.” She reached across the dangling hammock, took his hand. “I saw, remember?”

He pressed his lips tight, wishing again she hadn’t.

She turned back to the hammock and secured the other end, suddenly businesslike. He could guess how much she sensed through the bond.

She walked away, again shuffling through the junk on the floor. At last, she bent, scooped up a scrap of metal and returned to bend over the hammock where she began sawing away at the stitches along one edge, using the metal as a blade.

He could hear the crystal’s song. It didn’t call to him, but he felt it reaching out, its energy feathering along him. When it touched the crystal in his lightsaber, it suddenly withdrew.

Rey stopped sawing. “What just happened?”

He swallowed again. “Your crystal felt mine.” It took a moment to force the words out. “It’s afraid.”

She looked at him with such compassion, it took every ounce of will to keep from spiraling into shame and self-loathing. He set his jaw and met her gaze as evenly as he could. She turned away, back to her task—not a rejection, but kindness. The fire in his chest eased.

Little by little, she folded back the hammock’s side seam. At last, she made a noise of satisfaction and pulled out the kyber. It pulsed green in her hand.

Cupping it protectively, she turned to him, held it out.

He drew back. “Rey. No. It doesn’t want—”

“It can trust you,” she broke in. She still held it out to him. “I want to show it.”

He could feel the crystal quivering. Rey took his hand and pulled. He didn’t snatch it back, but he resisted.

“Kylo,” she said sternly.

Here, on this planet where it had all started, he noticed: _Kylo_. No one else called him that. He was either Kylo Ren, or Ren, or sir. But Rey…Rey called him Kylo. Not all the time— sometimes, she still called him Ben. He hadn’t quite decided why, if it was when she felt particularly close, or was trying to make him a more manageable presence. Maybe a little of both.

He was so bemused that he let her pull his hand over hers, so they held the kyber between them.

The crystal’s energy shrank away. He felt it with resignation. It could sense what he’d done to his kyber, the kind of pain he’d inflicted to bleed it. He began to draw back his hand.

“No.” Rey gripped him, holding his hand over hers. Her eyes blazed into his.

It was a ridiculous, pointless exercise. He could pull away, put an end to it.

He didn’t. He only stood there, Rey’s slender hand, the white of scars standing out against the tanned skin, holding his much larger hand over the crystal.

Her bright energy swirled, caressing and calming. The crystal’s energy expanded again. Under her touch, his own did, too, his resistance melting, his clenched unwillingness relaxing. He held his breath as the kyber hesitantly reached out to him.

It was a little like Rey—bright and fierce, with the shadow of devastation and its long isolation running through it. He held still as, testing and cautious, it threaded its energies through him. He sensed the moment it accepted him—not _his_ , but it would consent to him without being compelled.

He blinked and found himself looking into Rey’s eyes, shining with achievement. The grip of her hand changed to a warm touch.

“What next?” she said.

Kylo drew a long breath that shook only a little. “Now, you build your lightsaber.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Patience, young padawan. Things finally get...ahem... _interesting_ in the next chapter. ;-)


	34. Light and Shadow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Kylo finally wins what he's been working so hard for, and Rey realizes she doesn't need to make another mark on the wall.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a good time to remind you of the Mature rating. Cheers!

If Kylo had ever made a vow that Rey would never again scavenge, he’d be forsworn at this very moment. Because that was exactly how she’d spent the last several hours, after he ferried her in the Silencer to what she called the Graveyard.

There had been an argument about that. She won. He had a feeling she usually would.

The junk Rey had collected at the Graveyard lay jumbled together on a scrap of fabric—the components for a lightsaber, all scavenged from the wrecks of dead ships. He marveled, newly amazed at her ingenuity, her ability to find utility in worthless wreckage.

Ruthlessly, she kicked aside the strewn trash of her life that littered her shelter, clearing a space to work. He watched silently, sensing for her state of mind, but she seemed simply focused on the task.

She laid out the parts on her workbench, carefully setting the green kyber to one side.

Kylo studied them. “You aren’t making a staff?”

She shook her head. “It’s hard to kill someone with my staff. If I’m using a weapon, I want to be clear about what I’m doing.”

He nodded, then unclipped his weapon and set it on the workbench. “You can use mine as a template. You won’t need the lateral vents, but yours won’t be all that different.”

She looked up at him, startled. “But I might—”

“I’ll tell you if you’re about to do anything disastrous.”

She was still worried, but at last she nodded. Picking out Pilex bit driver from the Silencer’s toolkit, she began gingerly unscrewing his saber’s access panel.

“What’s the wire for?” She touched the carefully soldered red wire that ran the length of the weapon’s hilt. “My—” She broke off, began again, “Anakin’s lightsaber didn’t have one.”

“An adaptation for the cracked crystal. It gets too hot inside the hilt. The wire kept melting.”

She made a noise of comprehension and went on disassembling his lightsaber.

The last time he’d been through this process, Kylo had been someone else. He remembered his excitement, the joy and pride of accomplishment—one of his few moments of happiness during his exile with his uncle.

Then Luke had shattered even that.

 _Be calm, Ben_ , Luke had said. _You’re letting your emotions carry you away again_.

He wasn’t by nature a calm or contained man. He hadn’t been as a boy, either. To continually insist on calmness and detachment had been like plugging an active volcano. Everything he was forced to bottle up and ignore and deny turned inward, burning and tearing at him until he felt he’d explode.

“Kylo?” Rey said, turning to him.

He clenched a fist and pushed the memory away, breathing deep to calm himself. The irony wasn’t lost on him. “It’s fine. I’m fine.”

Her brows drew down.

He relented. “I’m remembering the last time I did this.”

“Oh!” She looked at the workbench then back at him.

He could see the struggle in her face as she put together when he must’ve done this, and with whom. And he realized…

He was doing the same thing to her that Luke had done to him.

He moved close, touched her cheek. “It did please me to build my lightsaber, Rey. You’ll see. Go on.”

She hesitated a moment, searching his face, searching him through the bond, then she turned back to her work.

He was surprised by how little instruction she needed. Because of the bond? Maybe not entirely. She’d been taking things apart and putting them back together again most of her life.

The weight and pain of the past fell away, leaving him floating in this moment, in this place, with Rey, her new lightsaber slowly taking shape as the sun slid lower outside her shelter’s door.

He lost himself in the pleasure of watching her work—the deft movements of her slim fingers, the intent line between her fine brows, the way she tucked her lips when concentrating on some particularly delicate task.

She looked up to catch him watching. It took a moment to realize she’d asked a question.

“Ben? Did you hear what I said?”

“You asked if you’d need cooling vanes. I was thinking.”

“Mmm,” she said in a tone that said, _**Sure** you were_.

He reached across her to pick up the lightsaber hilt, leaning close as he did. Her eyes closed. He felt in his own chest the way her heart sped. Slowly, unwilling to move away, he forced himself to examine the weapon.

It would be lighter than his—no surprise there, since it didn’t require the modifications his did to function. It didn’t have the clean lines of his grandfather’s lightsaber, but there was a certain rugged aesthetic to the scored and pitted metal, as if it scorned to hide its humble origins. In contrast, her welds and solders were clean and workmanlike, requiring very little filing—no one would ever look at this weapon and think _junk_.

“Try it without,” Kylo said. “You aren’t going to burn your hand, but you’ll know soon enough if it’s uncomfortably hot.”

He leaned forward to replace it. She took it from him, her fingers brushing his. The sensation of her touch unfurled up his arm, sending heat spilling through him. He looked down at her. Her eyes widened, questioning.

“The only things left are to wire the activation switch and set the crystal in the cradle,” he heard himself saying, his voice lower than usual.

Part of him wailed, _**What?** No! Stop talking!_

“Oh. Right,” she said unsteadily

The touch hadn’t only been physical—through the bond, he felt her snatch herself back and return to the lightsaber.

With his abilities, cursing had always seemed beside the point. Stepping back to give her room to work, he cursed himself now, long and silently.

“Do you do any kind of testing before you ignite it the first time?” she said after a while, addressing the question to her workbench. “This is a lot of power in a small package. Things could go really wrong.”

He cleared his throat to make sure his voice would come out even. “With the Force. It will tell you if there’s a problem.” He stared at her profile as hard as when he’d had her in that interrogation chair. “There’s a reason only Force-users carry a lightsaber.”

That got her to glance up. She looked away just as quickly. “But what’ll I be feeling for?”

“That’s what I’m here for. I know _exactly_ what an unstable blade feels like.”

She didn’t look at him again, but she grinned. “I bet you do.”

He forced himself to concentrate on what she was doing. Not on the way her hands moved, what it would feel like if those slim, strong hands moved like _that_ on him. _A lot of power in small package_ …

 _No_. This was not the time to be getting distracted. _You’re letting your emotions carry you away again, Ben_ , he mocked himself in Luke’s voice.

It was like a slap on the face.

She picked up the crystal, turning it in the fingers one hand while she held the hilt with the other.

Kylo stepped close. “You’ll use the Force to set the kyber. I’ll help.”

He pulled off his gloves, stood behind her and set his hands on her shoulders. He made a conscious effort to concentrate on the task, shutting out the impulse to let his hands wander lower. She was shaking, just a little. Mostly excitement, he felt, with a thin thread of nervousness.

“Now, set it in the cradle and align it.”

He let his energy spill into hers, ink through quicksilver. She gave a little gasp but didn’t flinch back. Their combined energies glided along the crystal. He let her feel what he was sensing for—the crystal’s structure, the way its energy flowed, the way energy would flow through it.

She turned it, turned it again, then set it in the cradle. He felt her reach for the Force, making finer and finer adjustments until they were too small to see.

She withdrew her touch on the Force. “There?”

“Yes. Exactly.” Pride in her filled him. He let her feel it through the bond.

She took a deep breath and turned shining eyes to him.

He dropped his hands and stepped back. “Now finish it.”

She gazed at him a moment more before turning back to fit the top bezel.

After it was soldered in place, Rey held out the finished lightsaber in both hands, her nervousness and anticipation clear even without the bond. He laid his own over it, cupping both hers from underneath with his other hand.

He shared his sense of the physical alignment of the components, the flow from the power core, through the focusing shunt and harmonic energizer and at last out through the crystal.

“Do you feel that?” he said. “Can you feel how the power will flow?”

Her eyes closed. She cocked her head to one side. “Yes. It feels…right?”

“Yes.” Dropping his hands, he stepped back again. “Try it.” He didn’t keep the excitement from his voice.

She was excited, too. He remembered the way it had felt—your _own_ lightsaber, that you made with your own hands, with a crystal bonded to _you_. He watched eagerly as she took the weapon in a fighting grip, raised it and touched the ignition switch.

The blade rayed out with a _vssshh_ of energy, the brilliant green of sunlight through summer leaves…

…glowing with a rippling red aura.

Kylo’s breath stopped.

Rey lowered the weapon.

“Oh,” she said in a small voice. The green glow lit her dismayed face, reflected with a glint of red in the widened eyes she raised to him. “I broke it, didn’t I?”

Kylo swallowed, his heart beating much too hard. He had to swallow again before his voice would come. “Look…”

He picked up his lightsaber from the workbench, ignited it. The ragged red blade crackled to life, spilled out into the quillions. She looked from it to him, perplexed. Her eyes fell to the blade again.

Red, yes. But in the growing dimness of her shelter, the faint blue aura was clearly visible.

Her lips parted and her eyes went even wider. “How…?”

“It’s been like this since the Nightfolk. Since I—” He couldn’t go on.

“Since you gave me your light?” she whispered.

He nodded once, extinguishing his blade. It hissed back into the hilt.

“But what about mine? Did I—did I _hurt_ it to make it like this?” She seemed on the edge of tears.

“You’re light side, but you aren’t afraid to go to the dark. The one kyber in the galaxy that reflects that— It called to you. You found it.”

She stared her blade again. He could feel her reaching out to it, the crystal reaching back, its energy harmonizing with hers. She relaxed and her distress changed to wonder.

Kylo thought of his own weapon, its discord and confusion turning to anger and pain and betrayal when he’d bled it. It had always, always hovered on the edge of his control. But now—

It wasn’t like that now.

His eyes found Rey’s.

 _Balance_. He felt the realization quake through her.

 _Yes_.

He took a step toward her. “Rey—”

Her lightsaber whispered off. He wasn’t sure how, who had moved, but his arms were suddenly around her. He wanted to crush her, devour her, but was afraid of rousing her instinct to fight. Shaking with the effort to be gentle, he cupped her face in his hands, bent and kissed her.

She was the one devouring him then, her fingers knotting in his hair, her slim body pressed to his, her mouth hot and hungry. He had just enough thought left to wonder if her hammock would support him, let alone both of them, then the world imploded to a burning core of sensation and desire.

* * *

Kylo still felt like a predator to her instincts, especially now, as he growled her name in her ear, as his fingers pressed into her flesh, as his teeth marked her neck. His body was heavy and irresistible, bearing her backwards. He drew back to yank her shirt over her head, undo her breastband, shove her pants down off her hips. The heat of his hands on her skin contrasted shockingly with the dry, indifferent touch of air.

She stumbled on the clothes around her ankles. His grip shifted and her feet were up off the floor, the fabric of his tunic rough against her bare skin. She buried her face in his neck, his hair brushing her face as she kissed him. His scent surrounded her, dark and dizzying. His hands, one on her thigh, the other just beside her breast, were almost too much to bear, and yet still not enough. They moved and she was falling. Her eyes flew open to see the familiar stained canvas of her hammock swallow her, the fiery light of Kylo’s eyes roaming over her, his black hair hanging around his face.

He lowered his head. His hands and mouth moved over her, bold and burning. Rey fisted her hands in his tunic, pulling at it, wanting his skin against hers. Holding her eyes, he sat up, stripped off his belt, undid the hidden fasteners of his tunic, pulled off his undershirt to reveal the same massive chest she’d seen through the Force on Ahch-To. This time, she didn’t turn away, but let her hands rove across the pale skin, tracing the muscles beneath, the scar that slashed across his collarbone. He snarled and descended on her again.

His hand skimmed down her belly and between her legs, leaving a trail of goosebumps. She’d wondered what it would be like if he touched her. Now, she found out, gasping and arching, her eyes flying wide at the intensity of sensation. He held her down, his mouth on her breast as his fingers stroked and probed, relentless, drawing her tighter and tighter until she shattered in a fiery explosion. Panting and shaking and dizzy, she sagged bonelessly. He rose up to kiss her deeply again.

She let herself fall into his darkness, spinning and breathless. His weight came down to pin her as he brought her hands up over her head, both wrists captured in one large hand. His gaze devoured her first, then his mouth, fire that began under her jaw and blazed its way to the angle of neck and shoulder then down again.

Fear didn’t spill through her, but instead a surging river of desire that rushed over every nerve, coiling tight and low in her belly. Hungry darkness bloomed at her center, wanting, demanding. His hand slid down her thigh to her knee, opening her. Moaning his name, she rose to meet him.

Darkness pierced her, filled her, swelled within her in a wave of devastating pleasure. It surged and pounded like a storm, driving her mercilessly until light exploded again, obliterating everything but him.

* * *

Kylo quickly discovered the hammock ideal for trapping her under him. She felt so delicate under his hands, so slight a vessel for such powerful radiance. She would be so easy to crush, to ravage and plunder, but his darkness was driven back by her brilliance, a jewel he could do nothing but treasure.

He touched her through the bond to make sure he didn’t hurt her, didn’t frighten her, though the darkness howled to possess her, claim her, _take_ her. He raised himself then sank into her, slowly and as gently as he could manage; savoring the feel of her around him, hot and slick and welcoming. His progress was arrested as he found that no one’d had her but _him_. Exulting, he fed his own fierce pleasure back to her through the bond as he pushed through, overriding that initial pain. Pain would’ve been even more pleasing—but the dark couldn’t have everything it wanted.

He drank in the sight of her, her lips parted, eyes closed, head tilted back to show the marks he’d made on her neck and shoulder. He brushed a thumb over her lips and her eyes opened, dark with pleasure. He held them with his as he moved, needing to see there what he felt through the bond—how she accepted him, _wanted_ him. The reality of her here with him, moving with him, trusting him with something so precious, with herself.

The dark in him reveled in making her submit again and again, relishing her gasps and cries as she did. The bright core of light she’d fanned to life in him made sure she enjoyed every second of it. He couldn’t get enough, couldn’t get close enough, wanted to bury himself in her until her light incinerated him. Her windswept scent, the scent of her arousal kept him eager. The taste of her, salt and sweet; the feel of her, satin over steel, kept him ready.

It was a long time before he calmed enough to hold the glow of her close, her slim leg thrown across his hips, her head nestled in the hollow of his shoulder. He combed his fingers through her hair, the fingers of his other hand idly drawing spirals and curves on the small of her back, trailing down over the tight muscle of her ass.

She murmured and pressed kisses to his neck, her hand roving down his body. He jerked and gasped when she touched him the way he’d imagined only a short while ago. Her leg slid higher on his hip, and he willingly roused once more to set her afire.

As her brightness descended to envelop him again, he didn’t even think to resist the call to the light.

* * *

Just like thousands of other nights, Rey lay in the dark of her shelter listening to the tick and pop and clink of metal contracting as it cooled. That was the only thing like all those nights.

Tonight, there was also the sound of a gentle snore and a strong, slow heartbeat under her ear. The warm surface under her was hard and lumpy, but she wouldn’t trade it for anything.

Kylo had covered them with his cloak when the cool of the desert night had begun to seep into her shelter. She pulled it up and with a contented sigh, snuggled against him.

Her body felt heavy, soggy, unwilling to move. It should’ve been easy to fall asleep, but a strangely pleasant ache deep inside, overly-sensitized places that sparked with the slightest friction, the musk of pleasure surrounding her kept a low buzz of stimulation going.

Inside…

Inside, her emotions whirled and bubbled and ricocheted, so many and so fast she couldn’t begin to say what they were. All she knew for certain was the warmth she felt.

Her bouncing thoughts landed on the marks on the wall. The night’s darkness hid them now, but she could still see them in her mind, going higher as she grew, deeper, more desperate, so many she’d long since stopped trying to count them. Counting had become much too painful.

There wouldn’t be another mark on the wall. Finally, _finally_ , she was where she belonged.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know canon lightsabers are either red or not-red. I took some artistic license here so anyone looking can see how Kylo and Rey are some of both dark and light.
> 
> Guys, thank you for your patience with the slo-w-w-w-w-w burn! It took 113,000 words, but Kylo and Rey had to come to a point where they really understood and trusted each other, AND they had a bad beginning that had to be gotten over for a chance at a lasting, healthy relationship. Thank you so, so, _so_ much for all your support. It means the world to me!
> 
> This is the end of Part One. Yes! There's a Part Two! I'm working on it as we speak! I'm about five chapters in right now. 
> 
> I'd like to continue updating weekly, but I'm starting to catch up to myself. As the story gets more complicated, I might slow down. But I promise, I have no intention of leaving this fic until it's finished.


	35. Kill the Past

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Unkar Plutt makes the acquaintance of one Kylo Ren.

##  **_Part 2_ **

An incessant, irritating noise plucked at Kylo’s consciousness, prodding him up out of sleep. The surface under him swung and fingers tightened on him. His eyes snapped open and he was suddenly, completely awake.

Rey rolled right over the top of him, lithe and naked and beautiful. A hammock not being an accustomed item of furniture, he struggled to sit up.

“Proximity alarm,” she said and began quickly pulling on clothes.

He stopped struggling and watched her, captivated.

Still appealingly exposed, she picked up his lightsaber from the clothes strewn on the floor and tossed it to him. “Come on. We don’t have a lot of time.”

With unwelcome effort, he wrenched his mind back to business.

He never realized how long it took to dress until he had to do it in a hurry. He was still hopping into his boots as she grabbed her new lightsaber, then she was out the door.

The sound of speeders wavered on the still morning air.

“Rey, wait!” he growled, finally got his boot on and went after her, lightsaber in hand. He didn’t bother with his gloves or cloak.

Five speeders crested a dune, their shadows fleeing long across the sand beside them. All but one carried two men apiece. The fifth labored under a single, hulking figure.

Rey growled something under her breath then said aloud, “Unkar Plutt.” There was a depth of loathing in the words that roused Kylo’s darkness. “He just _had_ to show up.”

He raised a hand. Rey caught it, pulled it down.

“Wait,” she said. “I want the chance to show him what he’s dealing with.”

The dark side was running strongly through her right now. He knew exactly what she felt.

They stood shoulder to shoulder near the walker’s feet. The speeders fanned out in a semicircle around them—obviously to prevent their escape. Too bad for them Kylo had no intention of trying to escape.

The engines powered down with discordant, descending whines and the men aboard climbed off. Eight were covered head-to-toe in wraps, robes, hoods, gloves, goggles, masks. The largest, a lumbering Crolute, wore some kind of plating down his torso, his veined and shiny neck and arms squeezing like dough out of the collar and sleeves of his shirt. Kylo stared at that one, making no attempt to subdue the darkness rising in him.

Rey planted hands on hips. “What do you want, Unkar?”

The thugs fanned out around the Crolute and drew their blasters.

“You stole a ship from me, girl,” Plutt said.

“How many years did you cheat and steal from me?” Rey fired back. “How many times did you make me starve? You really think that piece of junk you left rotting on the landing field can make up for that?”

“I bought you. You’re _mine_ ,” Plutt said. “I can do whatever I want with you.”

Kylo clenched a fist and dropped a hand to his lightsaber, his vision shimmering with rage.

Rey snorted. “You couldn’t before. You sure won’t now.”

Plutt gave a phlegmy-sounding laugh. “No? Who’s going to stop me? Pretty boy, there?” His gaze flicked dismissively over Kylo.

Kylo ground his teeth.  But this was Rey’s enemy. He had to allow her the satisfaction of dealing with him.

“What happed to the dark one?” Plutt taunted. “Got tired of him already?”

“Go away, Unkar,” Rey said, sighing. “I’m giving you a chance. I promise you, there’s nothing here you want to find.”

“Not the ship behind that dune?” Plutt said. “First Order starfighter, isn’t it? It just might make up for the one you stole.”

He gestured at his thugs. Two began moving across the sand, toward the Silencer.

“Don’t touch my ship,” Kylo growled.

The thugs stopped at the menace in Kylo’s voice. Their blasters came to bear on him.

Plutt’s small eyes, almost swallowed by blubber, widened. “ _Your_ ship!” He grinned, his peglike teeth glinting. “I hear you did a lot of damage at Laharna, boy. But you’re not in your fancy ship now, are you? No ship, no blaster, and a big, big bounty on your head from the Tento Syndicate.” He shook his head sadly. “You talk awful big for the spot you’re in.”

Rey glanced at Kylo, a look both embarrassed and apologetic. That she felt _she_ had anything to apologize for infuriated him even more.

“You never were very smart, Blobfish,” she sighed. “Remember when you messed with Sarco Plank? Don’t make the same mistake.”

The Crolute’s grin disappeared. “Don’t threaten me, girl. You’re not as tough as you think. You think you kept the filth off all these years?” Plutt sneered. “No. _I_ kept them off you. Because you were my best scavenger. You’re not scavenging anymore. That means they don’t have to stay off you anymore.” He jerked his head at his goons. “Go ahead, boys. Pretty Boy here can watch.”

Five of the thugs moved toward Rey, three of them toward Kylo.

He didn’t need to go into the Crolute’s vile mind to know what he planned. If his words hadn’t been clear enough, the thoughts and images and ugly lust and violence fouling the Force were.

They were dead men walking. Every one of them. Kylo ignited his lightsaber.

Every blaster swung to him. Three fired—shots aimed to incapacitate, not kill. He batted away the bolts. Rey reached out a hand, snatched the weapons away with the Force. A couple of the thugs yelped in shock, then all of them were going for other weapons. Kylo raised a hand and froze them all.

He stalked toward Plutt, his lightsaber shaking, he held it so tightly.

“I promised myself I’d kill you when I saw you.” That strained edge had crept into Kylo’s voice. He drew his lightsaber up and down Plutt’s blubbery body, the crackling red blade centimeters from him. “I promised myself I’d make it slow.”

He raised his blade to the Crolute’s head, carefully sliced along his helmet. It peeled open with the stench of burned leather. Plutt whimpered.

“No ears,” Kylo observed. “Too bad. I’ll have to start with a finger, then.”

He touched the Force, and Plutt’s mitt of a hand came up, shaking. The tip of Kylo’s blade traced the base of Plutt’s fat forefinger, close enough to scorch.

“How many portions for it?” Kylo said, then drew the tip of his blade to the Crolute’s wrist. “How many portions for a hand?”

“Please…” Plutt snuffled.

“Kylo,” Rey said.

He could feel she didn’t completely disapprove, but she was growing uncomfortable. Torture didn’t sit easy with her, it seemed.

He slid her a look and stepped back. Releasing Plutt and his bullies from his Force hold, he lowered his lightsaber. Rey didn’t relax, but her attention shifted from him to the goons cautiously shuffling in the sand, looking to their boss for orders.

Kylo waited, strung so tight the sand rose in little hissing eddies around his feet. _Go on_ , he thought. _Give me a reason_.

“What are you waiting for?” Plutt shouted at his goons. “Get—”

Kylo lunged forward again, swept his lightsaber upward. Plutt’s shout turned to a scream as the blade ripped up through his crotch. The scream stopped as the blade sheared through his chest, up through his blubbery neck and divided his gaping mouth and wide eyes.

The two halves of the body flopped onto the sand, wobbling like something washed up on the beach.

Rey ignited her lightsaber. For one, stunned moment, the silence was broken only by the hum of the two lightsabers and Kylo’s harsh breaths. Then the thugs were rushing them, armed with vibroknives and electrochains and a vibroax.

Rey gave a feral yell and slashed at the three rushing her. He didn’t need to watch to know her form was impeccable—he could feel her through the bond.

He took down the first one attacking him in a single broad swing of his lightsaber. Two more came at him, one wielding two vibroknives. Kylo feinted, forcing them back as he closed the distance between him and Rey.

She ducked under the arc of the electrochain and came up slashing. The thug thudded to the sand, his chain falling across him, sparking. His wraps smoked and burst into flame. Rey spun to engage the one behind her, already inside her guard, his vibroknife jabbing for her kidney. Kylo ripped him up the back, sent him sprawling. Rey’s eyes locked on his then widened, going beyond him. She made a move he must’ve learned but didn’t remember ever using: she lunged low over her leading leg, her outthrust blade jabbing past him at full extension.

He spun just in time to see the goon behind him skewered on Rey’s blade. He pitched face-first at Kylo’s feet as she withdrew.

The one with two vibroknives came slashing toward him, one blade high, one low. Kylo was already spinning his lightsaber when the man suddenly screamed, clawing at his neck. Kylo registered a strange lump on his shoulder then realized it was the hassash, its sharp teeth buried in the thug’s wrappings. The hassash leapt off and scurried across the sand. The man went rigid then toppled, thrashing wildly, his agonized screams shredding the air.

Kylo leapt across the flailing body, swinging for the remaining two. One whirled his electrochain as if he thought he could entangle Kylo’s blade. Very quickly, he discovered his mistake. The last man looked at the bodies around him, his vibroax wavering. Kylo stalked toward him, lightsaber ready at his side. The thug dropped his vibroax and lifted his gloved hands. Kylo swept his weapon up, brought it down again.

Rey’s green-and-red blade caught it, whining and crackling against his. “No!”

Kylo stepped back, disengaging. “Move,” he said, “aside.”

She lowered her lightsaber but still stood between them. “He surrendered! You can’t kill him!”

Kylo snarled wordlessly. “After what they were going to do to you?”

The thug shook his head hard, shaking and panting, his hands still in the air.

“Yes,” she said, quietly enough only he could hear. “Because you’re better than they are.”

It was like she’d plunged his killing rage into a vat of icewater. He slowly straightened.

Rey stepped back, turned to face the last man and pointed her blade at him. “Mast Surko, that was _not_ a favor to _you_.”

Breathing hard, Kylo pointed his own lightsaber at him. “Take off your mask.”

The thug scrambled to obey, pulling off wrappings and goggles to reveal a face that had seen more than a few too many fights.

Kylo stalked closer until the tip of his blade was centimeters from the goon’s throat. “This Tento Syndicate. You’ll take a message to them.”

The man shook his head, blubbering.

“Yes, you will,” Kylo said, then commanded, “ _Tell them what you saw here. Tell them what happened on Laharna is **nothing** compared to what I’ll do if they don’t withdraw._ Say it.”

“I-I-I’ll tell them,” the thug stammered. “You sliced Unkar in half. Laharna was nothing.”

Kylo turned to Plutt’s body, drew the blade of his lightsaber through the neck of one half. The stench of burned fish rose with the steam. He scooped up the head, tossed it to the gaping thug. The man fumbled in horror and dropped it.

“ _Pick it up_.” Kylo hissed the command. “It’s your proof.”

The man did, his whole body flinching in protest.

“ _Leave_ ,” Kylo said. “ _Don’t come back_. Make sure no one else comes, either. Make sure no one touches anything in Rey’s shelter again.”

Holding the half-head at arm’s length, the thug stumbled to one of the speeders and dropped the grisly trophy into a cargo net. It took him three tries to start the speeder, then it shot off into the white glare of Jakku’s sun.

Kylo deactivated his lightsaber.

Rey extinguished her weapon, too, narrowing her eyes. “Why did you kill him? We could’ve got rid of them without!”

He just stared at her. Finally, he said, “So he could go back and cheat and starve other scavengers? Set his bullies on other women?”

She blinked, and he knew he’d hit home.

Frowning, she made a frustrated gesture. “It’ll just be someone else now. There’ll _always_ be someone else. They never end.”

“They’ll end now,” Kylo growled.

She threw up her hands. “How’re you going to stop them?”

“Make sure someone is there to stop them. Make sure there are rules in place, and that they’re followed. That’s how civilization works.”

He could see her struggling with the idea and suddenly realized: _this_ was the only kind of rule she knew—a strongman who raped and killed, robbed and terrorized anyone weaker. She’d even told him: _Ruling means taking away from someone else_. No wonder she ran from the idea of rule.

She had a hard, suspicious look. “Rules,” she repeated slowly. “Like the First Order?”

“That’s one way of creating order.” He could see how it would look little different from what she knew. “There are others. You’ll see. I’ll show you.”

How, he didn’t know yet. He only knew that now that he’d seen how she’d been forced to live, he couldn’t leave others to endure the same.

* * *

The small freighter that descended near a small, walled town on Jannessi’s grasslands was the sort that any trader of middling success would own—practical, unremarkable, the same as a thousand others that carried small goods back and forth across the galaxy.

The two masked and black-cloaked figures that descended its boarding ramp gave the lie to that appearance.

At the bottom of the boarding ramp, Magarn Ren sensed around him through the Force, the wind whipping at his cloak. There were no bodies this time, although burned places in the grass visible as they’d landed and a scattering of debris showed where TIE fighters had gone down. The fact that there was so little evidence of fighting suggested that someone had gone to some effort to clean up.

“It feels the same as on that moon,” Embern Ren said. “Dark and light powers combined.”

“It’s more than that,” Magar said. “Almost as if…”

“They’re blending,” Embern finished.

A few speeders whined over the dusty road that cut the grasslands between a line of bluffs on the horizon and the town. People had been conspicuously absent. Magarn would’ve expected that if he’d landed in a First Order shuttle. A trader’s ship, however, should’ve brought them out.

Voices carried on the wind. Another moment, and a contingent of humans and four-armed, three-eyed natives, all armed with blasters, poured out of the town’s massive gates.

Embern’s hand dropped to his lightsaber. “So much for the nondescript ship.”

Magarn held up a gloved hand, a gesture of peace—and of caution.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” Embern muttered. “If they’ve seen Kylo in action, they’ll know exactly what you can do.”

“Only if they know I’m a Force-user,” Magarn said, but he quickly lowered his hand.

The armed group stopped close enough they wouldn’t have to shout. A tall native woman and man with trailing ropes of white hair moved to the front. They were unarmed, but two burly humans—brothers, by the look of them—moved to flank them.

“What do you want here, Nightkind?” the woman said in voice that didn’t sound the least bit old.

“Looks like they know,” Embern said dryly.

Magarn ignored him. “I’m Magarn Ren. This is Embern Ren. We’re searching for our brother, Kylo Ren. We believe he came here after he was wounded in an ambush. Have you seen him?”

“We’ve seen him, as I’m sure you know,” the woman said. “What do you want with him?”

Magarn could sense Embern’s uneasiness. A vague, creeping dread stole up on him, tightening his chest and making his heart pound.

Unaccountably, the thought drifted into his mind of Hux’s contempt for the Force, his suspicion that the man would kill every Force-sensitive he could get his hands on once he had what he wanted.

“They’re lightside,” Embern muttered. “Why are they protecting Kylo?”

A voice whispered into Magarn’s mind: _The Nightfolk also protect him._

Both Knights whirled. Two red lightsabers ignited. Magarn snapped up his mental shields and the fear gnawing at his guts quieted. It made no sense that it should, since another group of natives had slipped silently up behind them. These weren’t armed, but Magarn had the sense they were much more dangerous.

Despite his shields, the voice still whispered into his mind: _Who are you? We saw faces like yours in the mind of our brother. They tried to kill him. They were no brothers of his._

Embern made a move as if to plunge forward and lay about with his lightsaber. On their other side, blasters whined as the safeties came off.

Magarn had no doubt he and Embern could do some damage here…before they were overcome.

He caught Embern’s arm. “Shield yourself!” he hissed. “They’re telepaths!”

“I _am_ shielded!” Embern said. “It’s like trying to shield against Snoke.”

The nearest Jannessi showed sharp teeth in a grin. _We opened the Bright-one’s mind, and she was much stronger than you. You will tell us what we ask, or we will take it_.

Magarn had raised a hand, prepared to reach for the Force. Now he froze. _The Jedi_ —

Embern voiced the question first. “The Jedi girl was still with Kylo? What’s she doing with him?”

The Jannessi woman held up a long-fingered hand. “No. You answer _our_ questions.”

Magarn looked between the group with the blasters and the telepaths—Nightfolk? Both were clearly of the same species, but mirrors of each other in the Force.

Magarn lowered his hand and extinguished his lightsaber. “Ask.”

The Jannessi woman stepped toward them.

The man beside her caught her arm. “Verrannallu! Don’t trust them!”

“Oh, I don’t.” She nodded at her human guards. They moved to flank her, fingers tight on blaster triggers and eyes locked on the two Knights.

The woman, Verrannallu, approached, looked them up and down. “Is the galaxy so full of Nightkind? It seems that’s the only sort to come to Jannessi.”

“The dark eliminated the light,” Magarn said, watching the blasters as he kept his senses extended to the Nightfolk behind him. “As it always does.”

“Of course it did,” Verrannallu scoffed. “The Force isn’t so easily thwarted. Are you one of those who wounded the Night-one?”

The sudden question almost caught him off guard. Almost. “We all trained together as children. We were all apprentices under the same master. But we weren’t among those who attacked Kylo.”

“I ask again—what do you want with him?”

“Don’t,” Embern growled.

“They already know someone is after him,” Magarn said to him, then answered the woman. “We were also sent to hunt him down. But now…”

“Others came to hunt him down.” Verrannallu gave a sly smile. “They took him away with them.”

Magarn shared a look with Embern. Kylo had supposedly been “neutralized.” Not captured.

“There’s no way they could’ve captured Kylo,” Embern said. “He’s too strong.”

“The ship that came here before us has disappeared,” Magarn said slowly.

The woman folded all four arms. “Is that so? I wonder why.”

“The Jedi,” Embern broke in. His mask turned toward the silently watching Nightfolk. “The one stronger than we are. The one as strong as Kylo. _She_ did something.”

The woman cocked her head, studying them out of three green eyes. “You feel the Force, Nightkind. What do you feel here?”

“Dark and light, joined together,” Magarn said. “We felt the same thing in the place where Kylo was attacked, but we don’t understand.”

The woman looked to the Nightfolk beyond them. “What do you see in their minds?”

_It is as they say. A man sent them to hunt our brother, but now they seek him for themselves. They wish to understand_.

Magarn stiffened, appalled that he’d been so easily read. Embern’s breath hissed behind his mask.

“And once they do?” Verrannallu said.

_If they find strength, they will turn against the one who sent them and join our brother_.

She made a disapproving sound and looked them up and down again. “And if you don’t find strength?”

Magarn didn’t answer.

The Nightfolk rustled closer. Embern raised his still-blazing weapon.

A soundless murmur breathed around them, the brush of minds conversing privately.

Verrannallu shrugged and said to the Nightfolk, “Tell them if you wish. I’d rather let them find out for themselves.”

“Kylo _is_ still alive,” Magarn said.

“That Jedi. She’s _turned_ him,” Embern snarled. “It’s the only way she’d help him. The only reason _they_ would.” He gestured dismissively at Verrannallu and her people, then faced the Nightfolk, his weapon shaking in his grasp. “You’re darkside, and you let her. You could’ve helped him—”

_They are bound, our brother and the Bright-one_ , the Nightfolk broke in. _We tried to break the bond. He would not allow it_.

“ _We_ would’ve killed him,” Verrannallu said. “The Bright-one protected him.”

“Bound!” Magarn breathed.

Embern’s sword arm dropped to his side. “Why? _How?”_

“Do you see us, Brightfolk and Nightfolk, standing together?” Verrannallu gestured between her group and their mirror image. “ _That_ is why. _How_ , you have to ask the Force. No one else seems to know.”

Four of the Nightfolk moved close, their yellow eyes reflecting the red of Embern’s weapon. Magarn opened and closed a gloved hand, resisting the impulse to reach for his own lightsaber.

_The Nightfolk stand with our brother. His enemy is also ours_.

Magarn felt prying minds at the edges of his mental shields.

A flutter of laughter brushed his brain and the sense of prying disappeared. _You do not want us as enemies_.

“Hux,” Embern said. “He’s going after Hux.”

“With an army of darkside telepaths and a Jedi.” Magarn turned to meet Embern’s eyes behind his mask. “Hux doesn’t know.”

“Would it make a difference if he did?” Embern said. “Hux doesn’t have any use for the Force. He thinks his toys and technology will make it irrelevant.”

“Where did they go?” Magarn asked the Jannessi.

“If we knew, do you think we’d tell you?” Verrannallu said.

He turned to the Nightfolk. “You’re telepaths. You know.”

_Our brother returned to us our freedom. We go where we wish now_.

Verrannallu gave a dry chuckle. “I wouldn’t search for him, if I were you. I doubt he’d trust you. I know the Bright-one wouldn’t.” She looked to the Nightfolk. “What do you think? Do we let them go?”

Magarn had sensed the situation was precarious. He hadn’t realized it was _that_ precarious.

He ignited his lightsaber again. The blade shot out with a menacing hiss.

Minds clamped around his, the same kind of agony Snoke had enjoyed inflicting. He pushed back against it, using the pain to fuel the strength to bear up under it, to remain conscious. Embern’s pained grunts beside him told him he did the same.

The world narrowed to pain, tunneling darkness and the shivering red lines of lightsabers. Terror clenched a cold hand on his bowels, making them quiver. His weapon fell from his hands and the red winked out. As every horror he’d experienced welled up before his mind’s eye, he struggled to keep breathing.

The pain and terror vanished. He found himself on hands and knees, gasping, Embern whimpering beside him.

Voices whispered into his mind once more, grating against raw nerves. _Go, Nightkind. Do as you wish. But remember, we have tasted your minds. Nightfolk roam the galaxy now, and what we know, all know. If you betray our brother, Nightfolk will find you_. _Then we will feed, long and deep, on your darkness_.

Magarn wobbled to his feet, bent and helped Embern to his. Sweat ran down his sides, down his temples and neck beneath his mask and cloak. Verrannallu and her guards watched him, unbothered by what their darkside counterparts had done.

“We understand,” Magarn said.

Carefully, keeping his senses tuned to the watching Jannessi, he bent and picked up his lightsaber. He felt minds teasing at his as he and Embern returned to the ship.

The sensation only stopped when they jumped to lightspeed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I opted to go with the film's version of Unkar Plutt's history. The scene in the novelization where he tracks Rey to Takodana and Chewie tears off his arm just felt awkward and unnecessary to me.
> 
> Karma's a... Well, you know. ;-)


	36. The Ashes of Empire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the ghosts of Jakku's past reach out for Kylo.

Kylo kept the Silencer low, Jakku’s brown, broken landscape slipping past below.

Rey bumped in the seat, apparently trying to see out the viewport. “Where are we going?”

“The Empire had a secret base here,” Kylo said. “There were computers, maps to the Unknown Regions. I want to see if it’s still accessible, if there’s anything we can use.”

“Wait, that’s true? People talked about it, but always I thought it was just a wild story!”

“It’s true. What do you think all those warships were doing at a place like Jakku?”

“I knew there was a big battle. No one really seems to know what it was about, though.”

“It was about protecting that base. The Emperor planned to destroy Jakku, the fleets orbiting it and the Empire itself when he died.”

“What? Why? That’s crazy!”

“He was a Sith. The Sith didn’t leave things to posterity.”

She was quiet a few moments. “You’re not a Sith. Are you?” There was the hint of a plea for reassurance in her voice.

“No. Neither was Snoke. The Sith are as dead as the Jedi, thanks to my grandfather. Now there’s a chance.”

“For balance.”

“Yes.”

“The Force…” She trailed off.

Kylo waited, sensing her disturbance.

“We…you and I…are we just… _tools_ …?”

This wasn’t the conversation to have while flying back-to-back in a starfighter. He wanted to hold her hands, look into her eyes and assure her she wasn’t with him only because of the Force. Instead, he opened the bond so she could fully sense him.

“Rey, we aren’t tools, or instruments, or puppets. Do you remember the ocean on Ahch-To? The way the waves pushed and pulled? That’s the Force. The waves may wash us up on the same beach, but we decide what to do, where to go next.”

“The Force isn’t… _making_ us do anything,” she said doubtfully.

“No more than anything else in our lives,” he said, thinking of how Snoke had spent all of Kylo’s trying to push him into the dark in his own lust for power.

“Is that what you were taught?”

“No. It’s what I feel through the Force.” He paused as more dark thoughts bubbled to the surface. “It was a point of contention with Luke. He tried to convince me to surrender my will to the Force. That my willfulness was a path to the dark side.” He considered. “Maybe he was right.”

“No,” she said fiercely.

He turned his head, enough to see she’d turned toward him in her seat. “No? Why not?”

She heaved a sigh. “Ben.” Through the bond, he sensed her annoyance. “After everything, you still have light. And you’re trying to tell me that _using your brain_ leads to the dark side? What’s the point of _having_ a brain, then?”

He gave a huff. “You’re right. It doesn’t make much sense.”

* * *

The air at the bottom of the ravine where he landed the Silencer was unexpectedly cool and still. Broken rock rose all around, giving way to a sky almost white with heat and light. The only sound was the soft scrape of Rey’s feet as she descended the boarding ladder and a light patter as the hassash scuttled across the rocky ground.

Kylo turned his head, sensing outward. “We’re being watched,” he said quietly.

“The dead-enders,” Rey said just as quietly.

He gave her a questioning look. He saw as a thought came to her—her eyes widened.

“There really _was_ a base!”

“I told you there was.”

“The dead-enders—they’re just crazy old men, but they wear bits of stormtrooper armor. I never believed the story about them guarding some Imperial base. Unkar Plutt did, enough to send a bunch of his thugs to find it when I just a kid. A couple of ’em didn’t make it back, and the rest came back with junk even Unkar had to throw away.”

Kylo narrowed his eyes. The minds he sensed were drawing closer. “How are they armed?”

“They’ll throw rocks and homemade spears at you. I heard boobytraps got Unkar’s men.”

Kylo looked at the broken rock rising around them, perfect for boobytraps. “How close have you gotten?”

She shrugged. “Shouting distance. _I_ thought they were probably guarding an old wreck, but it wasn’t worth the risk of getting bashed in the head with a rock. I can find enough wrecks that aren’t guarded.”

“You _could_ find,” he corrected her absently. She wouldn’t be searching for any more wrecks. “They won’t attack us. Not seeing the Silencer.”

“They’ll think we’re Imperials,” Rey said.

A head bristling with wild white hair and a snarl of grizzled beard popped up from behind a rock. “Six six two oh three!” The cracked voice echoed from the ravine’s sides.

Another head popped up on the opposite side, then another above it, both as wild and grizzled as the first. The point of spear, wickedly sharp despite its obviously scavenged origins, swung in the hand of one of the dead-enders.

“Three seven five five nine!” one shouted.

“One oh six four eight!” called the one with the spear, his voice high and broken.

“That’s what they always do,” Rey said. “Yell numbers at you.

Kylo cocked his head. “Registration numbers. Like the stormtroopers.”

Her lips parted in realization. “Oh!”

“Six six two oh three,” Kylo called. “Report!”

There was silence for the space of a few breaths, then rock rattled and slid as the dead-enders came out from cover—the three they’d seen, the nine he’d only sensed. They ranged around him, stiff at attention, armed with stone-headed cudgels, crude spears and knives, wearing, as Rey had said, bits and scraps of stormtrooper armor.

The hassash quietly spidered across the rock above the dead-enders, positioning itself for a jump. _Wait_ , Kylo thought at it.

“Tell me the status of the installation,” he said.

“Inaccessible, sir,” 66-023 said.

“Where is the entrance?”

The dead-enders all exchanged glances. “That’s classified information, sir,” 66-023 finally said. “I’ll need your codes.”

His gaze roved over the skinny, battered old men in their rags with their primitive weapons. It would be simple enough to take the information from their minds, or command them to show him.

No. He wouldn’t abuse them any more than they already had been, abandoned here to guard a base for deserted thirty years.

Kylo reached for the Force, sensing outward, delving through uncounted tons of tumbled scree. _There_ , a slab of bent and crushed metal, a hollow beyond it. He pulled back to find Rey watching him curiously.

“I found it,” he said. “Can you sense it?”

She glanced at the dead-enders, clearly not wanting to leave them unwatched. “A door, underneath the rockslide. Some kind of space behind it.”

“I’m going to uncover it.”

Kylo stretched out a gloved hand, drew deep on his power and reached out.

With a grinding slide, rock began to shift away. The dead-enders gasped and scrambled backward.

Kylo calculated. It was going to take a while. He pressed on, moving blocks the size of TIE fighters, forcing all of them to back up as rock left the slope to fill the ravine.

Rey’s hand slid into his and her bright energy twined with his. The Force shivered, and with a deep, threatening rumble, the entire rockslide rose into the air. He glanced over to see a look of intense concentration on her face, her opposite hand outstretched in a mirror of his.

Admiration swelled in him. _Perfect_ , he thought. _She’s **perfect**_. _This is where she belongs—here. By my side. Always_.

Together, they raised the rock above the lips of the ravine and flung it outward. The ground shook as it fell back to earth. A few loose pebbles came bouncing down the slope.

Kylo lowered his hand and found the dead-enders creaking down to their knees.

“My Lord Vader!” 66-023 stammered. “Forgive me! Without your helmet—I didn’t know it was you!”

Kylo jerked as if he’d taken a blaster bolt. “No. I’m Kylo Ren. I—” Sudden, inexplicable reluctance seized him. “Darth Vader was my grandfather.” The words were unexpectedly dry in his mouth.

Rey’s hand tightened on his. Her eyes searched his face. He couldn’t begin to guess what she felt through the bond. _He_ didn’t even know what he felt.

“Was?” 66-023 ventured. “Lord Vader is…no more?”

“He died with the Emperor,” Kylo said.

He quickly turned back to the revealed bunker, a smooth, sloping wall set into the bedrock. The massive door in it was bowed outward, as if from a blast within. Crooking his fingers, he yanked back his hand. A howl, a screech, and the door flew and struck the side of the ravine with a resounding clang. He approached the maw opening into darkness.

Cool air breathed out, smelling of dust and explosives, and some old, indefinable scent that brushed a cold hand up the back of his neck. Rey stopped, tensing.

“This place doesn’t want me here,” she said in a tight voice.

“It’s strong with the dark side.”

Not simply the dark side—the dark side twisted and foul, as if the will that had been determined to destroy the galaxy for power had tainted even the Force. Kylo turned his head, sensing the malevolent currents spilling out of the bunker.

“Wait here,” he said.

Rey’s eyes snapped to his. “And let you go in alone? No.”

Apparently, she didn’t trust how far _he_ could resist the dark. He bristled, anger rising.

She stepped close, took his hand again. Her fingers worked at the fist he didn’t realize he’d made.

“I promised you weren’t alone, remember?” she said fiercely. “I won’t go back on that again.”

He blinked, pulling free of the undertow of darkness. Her words snagged his attention: _Again?_ He drew breath to ask what she meant, but she tugged at his hand.

“Come on,” she said. “The sooner we finish, the sooner we can leave.”

He hesitated a moment more, then nodded. “Open yourself to your darkness. That should let you enter.”

He could feel she didn’t like it. She set her jaw, raised her chin and nodded. Fear unspooled through the bond, and anger at being afraid. It felt old, well-worn, familiar, a tactic used again and again. It took him aback. How had she managed to stay in the light?

Her hand in his, their energies still twined together, they stepped into the darkness. The hassash scuttled past, cocking a grin up at Rey as it did. Kylo ignited his lightsaber. Rey let go of his hand to ignite hers, the weapons’ combined glow throwing strange, double-hued, double-shadowed light into the corridor ahead.

Shards of shattered glass glittered from beneath a shroud of dust and grit. The walls were broken and crumpled, probably by the same explosive force that had burst the door.

The scrape of footsteps came from behind—the dead-enders following, their stone-headed and scavenged weapons held tightly.

“My lord,” 66-023 said quietly, “Sentinels guarded the base.”

“Yes,” Kylo said.

They moved down the shattered corridor, stepping over toppled pillars and sprays of broken glass. A collapsed section narrowed the hallway. The hassash scampered around the obstruction. Kylo edged through next, senses stretched ahead. Nothing. He nodded and Rey followed, the dead-enders shuffling through after.

A pentagonal doorway opened into darkness. Kylo had taken a few steps toward it when a sharp clatter echoed. The dead-enders shouted.

Lightsaber raised, Kylo spun to the right the same instant Rey spun to the left. Formations of droids appeared out of the darkness on each side. The blaze of his lightsaber reflected from the blank screens of their helmets. They raised their blasters—

The dry _tack-tack-tack-tack_ of dead power cells echoed. And from behind him, the sharp whine of a single live round.

Rey gave a wild scream and the bolt ricocheted away, deflected by her blade. He caught the flash of her astonishment, as if she couldn’t believe she’d done it. He raised a hand, sensing her hand come up in a mirror image of his. His Force blast went out the same instant hers did. Droids went flying, crashing against the ruined walls, spinning across the littered floor. Relentless as the machines they were, they dragged themselves to their feet, began advancing once again.

Brandishing their homemade weapons, the dead-enders scrambled to put themselves between Rey and Kylo and the droids.

“Stop!” a harsh voice commanded.

The droids froze. In unison, their blasters raised, pointing at the ceiling lost in shadow.

Lights blinked on overhead, stuttering and uncertain, throwing more jumping shadows than light. A red-robed figure glided out of the darkness, a shimmering holo of a sagging, ruined, yellow-eyed face displayed on its glass faceplate. Kylo knew that face.

Darth Sidious. The Emperor.

The dead-enders went to their knees, cowering on the rubble-strewn floor.

“It’s a droid,” Kylo told them.

They still babbled in terror.

The sentinel stopped a little distance away. “Do you come from the Unknown Regions?”

Kylo calculated. He didn’t like dealing with a droid. There was nothing to sense through the Force, no mind he could probe.

He dipped his chin in a nod. “Yes.”

Technically, it was true—he’d fled to Snoke in the Unknown Regions, had spent years there until Snoke deemed it time to unveil the might of the First Order.

“You bow to the dark side,” the droid said in its creaking facsimile of Sidious’ voice. “Why then does a Jedi accompany you?”

Rey shifted. The aggression that prickled through the bond wasn’t her usual masking of fear, but something darker and more violent.

“Look at her weapon,” Kylo said. “She’s no Jedi.”

He couldn’t sense the droid’s attention, but the holo of Sidious’ yellow eyes roved over Rey. The sunken lips curved in a cruel smile.

Aggression of his own burned in Kylo’s chest. _It’s a droid_ , he reminded himself. It didn’t help. The urge to destroy remained just as strong.

“What kind of bastard thing is she, Jedi with a dark heart? Is that how she escaped Order 66? Sold herself to the darkness, to be its plaything?”

Kylo was going to raze this planet flat when he was finished here. He pointed his lightsaber at the sentinel. “I don’t care if you were the Emperor himself. You will not speak of her that way. If you have a message, deliver it. If you don’t, I have no use for you.”

The droid cackled. “The Emperor commanded that the Empire die when he did. You come too late. The message is void.”

“The Empire was rebuilt in the Unknown Regions,” Kylo said. “I was sent to ensure its rebirth.”

Breath hissed through Rey’s teeth. He tightened his grip on his lightsaber, waiting for her to erupt, wondering distantly what he’d do if she did.

“Without the Emperor?” the droid said.

“As the Emperor decreed.”

“Ah,” the droid said in a tone of oily satisfaction. “Then I offer you this.”

It withdrew something from its robes, held out a red-gloved hand. On it rested a pyramidal-shaped object that appeared to be made of obsidian.

Kylo caught his breath. A Sith holocron.

He hesitated only a moment, then stretched out a hand. The holocron flew, smacked into his waiting palm.

The sentinel waited, watching him. Kylo had no doubt his trial wasn’t over yet, but he’d had enough of this game. He reached out with the Force again.

He couldn’t Force-choke a droid. He _could_ crush it.

The glass faceplate shattered, sending a rain of shards that glittered red in the light from his weapon. The helmet crumpled in a spray a sparks, then the rest of the body with a screech and wail of metal, bending and twisting down, smaller and smaller until it was only a sparking lump on the floor.

The other droids’ weapons snapped down in unison, leveling on them. The next instant, they pitched forward, sideways, their limbs jerking and flailing, their vocabulators screeching. In a few moments, all that remained was the occasional spit of sparks and twitch of metal limbs.

Kylo lowered his hand, curving his fingers around the holocron. “We’re going on,” he told the dead-enders. “Guard our rear flank.”

“Yes, my lord,” 66-023 said, glancing white-eyed between the jerking, sparking droids and Kylo.

Rey lowered her weapon but didn’t relax, her eyes darting everywhere. He searched her through the Force, the bond, with his eyes. “How are you?”

She rubbed a hand up and down her thigh, still scanning the flickering dimness around them. “I don’t know. I feel…strange. Angry…but I don’t know what I’m angry _at_. Angry enough to kill something.”

He didn’t think she’d turn, didn’t believe she _could_. She’d also shifted into her darkness to be able to enter this place.

“Raise your shields.”

“Why?” she said, suspicious.

“Do it,” he snapped.

Her eyes narrowed.

Once again, he shook free of the anger that had seized him. “The dark side is more than strong here. It’s almost distilled. It affects even me. I don’t trust what it will do to you.”

She studied his face a long moment, then she disappeared from his perception, there yet not-there.

Hand-in-hand once more, they continued on. The corridor disgorged into a huge chamber. Angled walls suggested a polygonal shape, but the decades-past disaster had collapsed many. A bank of alien computers stood at the room’s center, most damaged, many completely crushed.

Kylo extinguished his lightsaber. Rey guarded him as he touched an intact computer’s controls.

A star map sprang into existence, spitting, blinking and broken with static. Kylo recognized it. He especially recognized the red dot at one edge.

His fists clenched. “Snoke.” His voice echoed strangely in the ruined chamber

Rey studied the map, blue light flickering over her. “That’s where he was?” Her hand ghosted through the red dot, the system Snoke had drawn him to all those years ago. A line appeared between her brows. “It doesn’t make sense.”

“What?”

“Everything. Why destroy the Empire only to rebuild it?”

“Palpatine meant to destroy the Empire _and_ the Republic, leaving chaos behind. After rebuilding the Empire, it would be easy to step in and take over. It _was_ easy.”

“Kylo,” she said, as if pointing out something blindingly obvious. “The Emperor was _dead_. Why should he care?”

He stopped, taken aback.

“And why look for Snoke?” she went on. “Did he expect Snoke to help him?”

Kylo frowned, uneasiness breathing over his skin. “The Emperor had been searching for a dark power in the Unknown Regions,” he said slowly. “You’re right. Sith don’t form alliances. The dark side is about domination…” He trailed off, his uneasiness growing.

“But he was waiting for someone from the Unknown Regions to come.” Rey pointed at the holocron he held.

_But who?_

Kylo turned the holocron in his hands, studying the Sith glyphs engraved on its surface. When he was young, his studies had included the Sith language, though he’d made sure to keep that fact to himself. His radical ideas of the Force had gotten him into enough trouble. There hadn’t been any point of adding worse accusations.

He raised his head and looked at Rey. “Jedi aren’t supposed to react well to Sith holocrons.”

She waved her lightsaber. “I’m not a Jedi, remember?”

He studied her a moment more, then brushed gloved fingers over the glyphs. “ _Vexok, taral._ _Ja’ak_ ,” he said, then translated, “’Wake up, protector. I am free.’”

The holocron began to glow, bright red-orange lines illuminating the glyphs first, then spreading until the whole device looked like it glowed red-hot. As the holocron rose off his palm and into the air, a fan of blue light unfurled from its peak. The light gradually coalesced into a form. Rey’s breath hissed between her teeth as she recognized that form the same moment Kylo did.

Darth Vader.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Full disclosure: I haven't read Chuck Wendig's _Aftermath_ trilogy. If you see any inaccuracies, that's why.
> 
> My ideas about the Force might be as radical as Kylo's. But the notion that people do things because of "the will of the Force" always bugs me. The Force might nudge, but people do what they do.


	37. The Power of the Dark

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Kylo gets to know Grandad, the hassash prevents the worst mistake ever, and life-changing questions are asked and answered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's Thanksgiving Day weekend here in the US, so I have the perfect opportunity to tell you how thankful I am for you, dear reader. Every single one of your comments, kudos, bookmarks and subscriptions is a feast for this writer's soul. It's incredibly rewarding to know that my words give you happiness, and encourages me to keep writing. You're the best!
> 
> You might remember that KriffingHell suggested a naming contest for the hassash. Well, the votes are in, and the winner is... (drumroll) ...Kreet! Thank you, Eowyn73, for the suggestion. And to haessal for the idea of "creepy creature."

The holo solidified into a black-garbed figure even bigger and taller than Kylo.

It bowed low. “I greet you, my lord, on behalf of my master, Emperor Palpatine, Darth Sidious, Lord of the Sith. I am Darth Vader. What may I call you?”

Kylo couldn’t breathe, all the years he’d spoken to a melted helmet rushing over him. All the years he’d yearned for his grandfather’s counsel, for his approval, his acceptance—approval and acceptance he’d found nowhere else. The helmet hadn’t given it either, no matter how much he pleaded.

He found his shoulders hunched as if against pain. Even with the bond closed, he felt Rey’s eyes on him. Remembering where he _had_ finally found acceptance and approval, he met her gaze and straightened.

“My name,” he said, his voice rough, “is Kylo Ren.”

The image of his grandfather cocked its head, the black, expressionless mask seeming to peer at him. “You,” the deep voice rumbled. “I… _know_ you. My Master…?”

Kylo took a deep breath, filing away for later the question of why Darth Vader would mistake him for Emperor Palpatine. “I’m your grandson.”

“Grandson!” Vader reached a black-gloved hand for Kylo’s face, but the image wasn’t able to touch. “Luke’s?”

“His sister’s. I’m Leia Organa’s son.”

Vader actually rocked backward. “Leia Organa!” he breathed, a hissing through his mask.

He clenched his fists and bowed his head, a gesture so familiar Kylo had to resist clenching his own fists.

“ _The Princess?”_ Vader said in a strangled voice. “I— Do you mean to tell me— My own _daughter_ —”

Even though he was only a holo, the Force rippled with the strength of his emotion.

Sick foreboding crawled through Kylo’s guts. “What did you do, Grandfather?”

“We caught her. I tortured her. Personally. I took great pleasure in it. I would’ve killed her. My own daughter!”

A terrible gasping came through Vader’s helmet. It took Kylo a moment to realize it was laughter.

Contempt gripped him. _Contempt_ , for the man he’d idolized for _years_.

Contempt for himself that he had…and shame at what that blind worship had driven him to do.

“I wanted to be like you.” The echoes of his voice through the ruined chamber grated. “I tried. To be. Like you.”

The words broke in on Vader’s laughter. “For my strength. My confidence. My _power_.”

“You knew where you belonged.” Kylo couldn’t keep the bitterness from his voice. “You weren’t weak. Confused.”

He felt Rey’s touch unfurl through the bond.

He whipped around. She reeled, going pale, but she didn’t shut the bond.

“Shields _up!”_ he snapped, shoving her away through the bond.

Vader’s mask turned toward her. His hand dropped to his lightsaber. “What is this?”

“She’s my—” Kylo stopped himself from saying something rash and stepped close to her. “We’re bonded through the Force.”

Vader hadn’t sensed her presence in the Force until she lowered her shields. She was _that_ strong.

“She’s lightside!” he said in a tone somewhere between shock and disgust. “How can you be bonded?”

“The Force wants to be whole,” Kylo said.

He could see the conversation picking at Rey’s insecurities—her face shuttered.

He changed the subject to something less fraught. “What was the Emperor looking for in the Unknown Regions?”

“Life,” Vader said. “An Eternal Empire.”

“How?”

“He found plans for a Force-powered weapon on Rakata. Once he joined with the dark presence in the Unknown Regions, he would return, build the weapon and rule the galaxy unopposed.”

Kylo’s gaze jumped to Rey’s, but she still had that stony, shut-down look, the look of a scavenger girl refusing to show any weakness. It might only be the conversation—

Or it might be the powerful darkside energies pouring out of the holocron, whispering to her.

“Hux, Rey,” he said, still watching her, willing her bright intellect to engage. “He’s searching for a new weapon at Rakata. What does he know?”

A knot only appeared in her jaw, her gaze stubbornly avoiding his.

“The boy was part of the Contingency,” Vader said. “Part of the plan to recreate the Empire in a new guise.”

The questions bubbling through Kylo’s mind suddenly felt much, much less important. Rey had the bond shut tight again, but he could feel her withdrawing, feel the old instincts taking over. Fight or flight. How much could she resist them, here in the very place she’d been abandoned, left to live or die on her own?

He turned, took her by the shoulders. “Rey. Look at me.”

He was conscious of Vader watching. He didn’t care.

“The light weakens you,” Vader observed.

“No,” Kylo said flatly. “You’re too late, Grandfather. You can’t tell me anything I haven’t heard before.”

“Yes,” Vader purred. “I hold limitless knowledge of the dark side. And you turn away to tend to a _girl_ who can’t even master the light.”

“Because she hasn’t shut herself off from the dark,” Kylo snapped.

Vader was as blind as Luke, clinging to the old, narrow ideas, trying to fit the entire galaxy into one box or another.

“She _overflows_ with the dark,” Vader rumbled. “Pain and fear and anger rule her. You were right to bring her here, Kylo Ren. Grandson. There will be no difficulty turning her. She will make…an _acceptable_ servant when the Emperor returns.”

Rey snarled and raised her lightsaber. For an instant, Kylo thought she meant to swing at the holo of Vader.

She swung at _him_.

Kylo leapt back, her blade slashing within centimeters of his chest.

Breath-stealing rage blazed up in him. Everyone betrayed him. _Everyone_. Why should Rey be any different? His lightsaber snarled to life in his hand.

Vader watched with avid interest as Kylo surged forward to close with her.

Suddenly, Rey shrieked and twisted, tearing at her shoulder with her free hand—at the hassash where it gripped her, screeching.

Kylo saw his chance. He lunged forward, lightsaber swinging. The hassash launched itself from Rey’s shoulder, landed on his sword arm. Its sharp teeth glistening red in the light from his weapon, it opened its mouth and raised its head to strike.

Kylo flung his arm wide in an instinctive effort to throw off the creature. It leapt again, caught the holocron where it floated in midair. The holocron gripped in two hands, it landed lightly and darted across the littered floor of the chamber. The holo of Darth Vader roared in fury.

“No!” Kylo shouted. He sprinted after the hassash, the holo’s blue light jumping wildly across the buckled walls and heaved floor. Behind him, Rey’s steps kept pace, crunching and sliding over debris.

The dead-enders left on guard scrambled back as he bolted past. Rey gave another snarling scream and he felt the Force blast out behind him—they must’ve gotten in her way.

Rage and betrayal burned in his chest. _Everyone_. _Everyone_. Even the Night beast that was supposed to be his. He’d get that holocron back. Then he’d deal with them both.

White light blazed ahead, swallowing the bobbing blue flicker that marked the fleeing hassash. He spilled through the base’s door and out into the ravine, Jakku’s merciless sun pounding down on him. The hassash leapt nimbly from rock to rock up the sides. Kylo thrust out a hand to snatch it with the Force.

Rey’s wild yell sounded behind him. As he whirled to face her, he caught a glimpse of the hassash pounding the holocron on a rock, its grating hisses punctuated by the sharp _tock! tock! tock!_ of metal hitting rock.

Rey looked like the wild thing she was—her hair tangled and plastered to her face, eyes wide and savage, teeth bared. Her lightsaber blazing, she screamed flung herself at him—

Kylo felt the instant the holocron deactivated. The rage and pain shivered and collapsed. His sword arm fell and he stumbled back, as weak and gasping as when Snoke had tortured him with Force lightning.

Rey’s face twisted, savagery turning to horror. She screamed again. Her hand sprang open and her lightsaber flew, but her momentum still carried her forward. She collided with him.

They both went down, rolling in the grit and sharp stones of the ravine’s bottom. His weapon bounced from his weakened grip. He grappled for Rey, but she writhed away and scrambled to her feet. Kylo sprang upright, scanned for his weapon, called it to him with the Force. He ignited it.

Her eyes still wide with horror, she stumbled backwards. “I tried…I tried… I was going to _kill_ you!”

She kept backing up, making no move to recover the lightsaber that lay in the dirt near his feet. He held own weapon, spitting and crackling. Three strides, one swing, and she’d be dead.

“Oh, no,” she gasped. Tears slid down her cheeks. “Oh, no. I was… I was…”

She buried her face in her hands, oblivious or not caring about the threat he posed. Through the bond, he felt the roil of shock, disbelief, revulsion, and knew which it was.

He found himself shaking, his stomach clenched and queasy with the realization that he’d been ready to cut her down, too. He extinguished his lightsaber. He’d been so certain they couldn’t hurt each other, that the bond—or the Force—wouldn’t allow it. Had he been wrong? Had his promise to her, that he would never hurt her, had it been a lie?

“Rey.” His voice came out hoarse. “It was the holocron. It affected me, too. I would have—

He couldn’t say it aloud. He breathed hard, imagining if the hassash hadn’t distracted him. Seeing the image of her dead in the rubble of a destroyed base, her bright light, her incandescent power, the lively fire of her mind and heart snuffed out forever.

The memory of his father flashed in his mind, his face lit by the terrible red glow, shock and pain turning to grief, and finally to love. A sob tore out of him and Kylo fell to his knees, then pitched forward to his hands, the pain blinding, crushing.

His father. His mother. He brought nothing but death and destruction and pain. Now Rey—

Her anguish tore at him, dragging out of the pit of self-hatred. Shuddering with the effort, he raised his head. She, too, was on her knees, her shoulders shaking with sobs.

Pushing himself up, he focused on her, his pain paling in the face of hers. “I told you to open to your darkness. It’s not your fault.”

She was spiraling down into shame and self-loathing, the same place he’d just been. He staggered up, crossed the space between them and pulled her into his arms. She struggled to push him away, but he only held tighter.

“Don’t,” he whispered into her hair. “Don’t go there, Rey. What you did, what you felt— It was the holocron. It was being in that _place_. It wasn’t you. It wasn’t _me_.”

He felt the moment she realized that he, too, had raised his weapon to her, meaning to strike; she jerked back.

He didn’t let her pull away. “No. No more fighting. It’s wrong. You feel how wrong.”

She stopped struggling and just breathed, her breath warm against his neck where he held her, his hand wrapped around the back of her neck. Her hands fisted in the front of his tunic. After a moment, she nodded.

“Now you see why I say—no more Sith. No more Jedi,” he whispered. “They twist the Force. One castrates it, the other turns it to evil. They make it all _wrong_. This is why they have to end.”

He let her draw back enough to look at him. Her face was troubled. “But you— The things you did before…” She wet her lips, plunged on in true Rey fashion. “You said you wanted to be like _Darth Vader_.”

“I was wrong. Everything I was _taught_ was wrong. I tried to twist myself into something I’m not, because I didn’t understand. The dark side isn’t evil. It isn’t brutality and cruelty. It’s another aspect of the Force, accessed by another means. I only realized it when I saw you, the way you dance with the dark and still stay in the light.”

 _I realized when I killed my father and saw the warped and broken thing I’d become. All for **nothing**_.

The thought tried to drag him down again. His breaths raw and ragged, he struggled to push it back. There would be another, less fraught time. Many other times. The rest of his life.

She cocked her head, a line between her brows. “Do you really believe you’re weak and confused?”

He broke from her gaze.

She put her hand to his cheek, forcing him to look at her. “I’m not even going to try to explain how you’re not,” she said. “It would be _exhausting_.”

He gave a huff, half reluctant laugh, half derision.

She gave him a little shake. “Don’t laugh. It’s true.”

“That’s why the hassash had to stop me from killing you,” he said with bitter sarcasm.

 “Kylo, it stopped us from killing _each other_.” She blinked. “ _The hassash_ …”

“That shouldn’t have happened,” he said. “We shouldn’t have been _able_ to try to kill each other.”

The troubled look was back. “Then why?”

“The Sith were evil,” he said. “What I felt in that base—they corrupted even the dark side. Any dark emotion was enhanced. It’s how they got their power.”

Snoke’s sneering voice echoed in his mind: _You’re nothing but a child in a mask_. Degrading, demeaning him. Torturing him. Pushing him deeper and deeper into darkness, into actions he never would’ve chosen. But why? What did Snoke gain, other than a powerful tool?

“When I activated the holocron in the Sith’s domain,” he went on, “the dark aura it released infected us.”

Rey’s brows went down. “It can’t happen again. We can’t _let_ it happen.”

“No.”

“How?”

Stroking her hair, he considered. “The bond _did_ stop us from killing each other. I think the hassash has become part of it.”

She caught her breath, her eyes going wide.

“If it was only protecting me, it would’ve bitten you,” he went on. “It didn’t.” He paused, remembering the vision he’d had on the _Relentless_ , of the web of light and dark spinning outward from the two of them. “I think the bond has begun to weave through the lives around us.”

“Oh.” She looked overwhelmed—or disturbed. “That’s—”

A dead-ender’s voice broke in: “My lord?”

Kylo turned. The dead-enders stood in a rough semicircle around them, their weapons ready, their eyes darting between him and Rey. He picked up her lightsaber from the dirt and pointedly handed it back to her. Rey took it as she might’ve taken the hassash.

“This base has been deserted for thirty years,” Kylo said to the dead-enders. “You shouldn’t have been left here.”

66-023 straightened. “It’s our duty, my lord.”

“A cruel duty,” Kylo said. “They abandoned you here to see how long you’d hold up. To find out if you could endure it.”

The dead-enders shifted uneasily. He sensed their disagreement, but they didn’t argue. Of course they didn’t.

He glanced at Rey, then back to the ragged old men. “I release you from that duty.”

There were shocked gasps and murmurs. One of them was Rey’s.

“But my lord,” 66-023 stammered. “Without our duty—”

“I offer another,” Kylo said. “If you’re willing to take it.”

“Willing?” 66-023 said, confused.

In that moment, Kylo understood in his gut why Rey recoiled from the idea of rule. Rule had reduced these men to little more than machines who knew nothing but following orders. Anger bloomed in his chest.

“Yes,” he said firmly. “You have a choice. You know about Niima Outpost?”

Grizzled heads nodded warily.

“It’s been controlled by gangsters and strongmen. The last one who controlled it is dead. I don’t intend for another to take his place. With a strong force in place for keeping order, that won’t happen. Your new duty can be as part of that force.” He paused to make sure he had their attention. “Or you can be discharged with honor. Return to your home worlds, or wherever you wish.”

Amazement came over the bond, then swelling joy. He glanced to the side to see Rey’s eyes shining as they had when her kyber had accepted him.

“It’s your choice,” he said again, to make sure they understood.

The dead-enders looked at each other, confusion and a certain amount of fear coming off them in waves. After a few moments, 66-023 struggled down to his knees. The others did the same, bowing their heads.

“My lord,” they all murmured.

“My lord,” 66-023 said, his voice shaking. “It would be our honor to guard the people of Jakku.”

Something strange came over the bond, a sort of squeezing sensation. He looked swiftly Rey’s way. A tear gleamed down her cheek, but her face was full of admiration.

Had she ever looked at him like that before? Had anyone? A sudden, incomprehensible wave of emotion rolled over him. He pushed it down, confused.

“I’ll assign a First Order contingent to support you,” he said briskly. “We’ll discuss your duties and requirements after you arrive at Niima Outpost.”

He turned and swept Rey up without looking at her. He heard a clatter of small stones and the scrabble of small feet as the hassash scurried after them.

* * *

Rey dropped into the gunner’s seat and absently belted herself in. Kylo did the same in the pilot’s seat. It felt strangely like that first night in the Silencer, after Laharna—silent and awkward. He’d shut the bond again, but not before she sensed deep confusion.

Well, that made _two_ of them. First Kylo released the dead-enders. The next breath, and he was putting the First Order in charge of Jakku. Except it wouldn’t really be First Order. It would be…whatever they were now, trying to get out from under First Order tyranny. She rubbed her forehead. Yes, it was very confusing.

There was a scrabbling on the deck and she jumped, picking up her feet just as the hassash scuttled under her seat. She bent over, trying to peer under there. All she saw was a spidery little hand that snatched itself out of sight.

She straightened again and caught herself smiling. “You should give the hassash a name.”

Kylo was silent in the pilot’s seat behind her. Lights came on in the ship and the engines whined to life. “I thought you didn’t like him,” he said eventually.

“I changed my mind.”

Silence again, broken only by the sound of switches being flipped and systems coming online. She twisted in her seat but could see only his shoulder and a black-clad arm.

From its place under her seat, the hassash gave a trilling purr. It, at least, seemed to appreciate the idea.

Annoyed and unsure, she pressed her lips tight and tried again. “How about ‘Kreet?’ Sort of short for ‘creature.’” _Creepy_ creature, but she wouldn’t say that out loud.

No reply.

“Sort of,” she said.

The engines howled and the Silencer shot into the air, pressing Rey into the restraints. Once the ship was smoothly flying, Kylo’s silence began to gnaw at her. Uncertainty slid into a sick dread. She didn’t have to think hard to realize why he wouldn’t want to talk to her. Her stomach crumpled into a cold knot.

She wet her lips and swallowed once. “We’re going to Niima Outpost?”

“Yes.”

She cleared her throat and willed her voice to be steady. “You can leave me. I can make it to my shelter from there.”

Silence again, then, “ _What?”_ She felt him wrench around in his seat. “What are you talking about?” Real anger threaded through his voice. “Why do you want me to leave you?”

“Because I—” She couldn’t say it again. She didn’t even want to think it. “Because of what I did. Back there.”

“That’s what you think, after everything? What do I have to do to prove—?” He broke off.

The engines shrieked and the fighter went into a steep, banking dive that had Rey digging her nails into the armrests. She hung on as a hard deceleration jammed her back into her seat. A neck-snapping bump told her when they landed.

Kylo was up out of his seat and around in front of her, fists clenched and eyes blazing. She fumbled to unlatch her restraints, having no intention of being towered over by an infuriated Kylo Ren.

Abruptly, he knelt by her chair. “Rey.” Compared to his look, his voice was unexpectedly gentle. He took her hands, engulfing them in his. “I don’t want you _gone_. I want you _with_ me. Always.” His mouth tightened. His gaze was dark and consuming. “I want you to marry me.”

Everything in her stuttered to a stop. She stared at him, trying to get enough breath to reply. “Marry you?” Her voice came out too high.

“Don’t tell me you didn’t know.”

 _Join me_ , he’d told her on the _Supremacy_ , whatever that meant to him. She remembered the vision they’d shared on the _Precursor_ , when she showed him how her power worked. She still wasn’t entirely clear what that had been.

“I—um— How?” she blurted, hoping he’d say enough that she could figure it out.

“You decide.”

“Oh.”

He watched her with that intense patience that made her feel much younger than she was.

“You mean decide right now?”

His grip on her hands tightened. “Is that a yes?”

She frowned. “You didn’t ask me anything.”

His stare shaded to annoyance.

She shifted under it, her hands still caught in his. “I—” she began, embarrassed. “People don’t get married on Jakku. They just…” She gestured vaguely. “…do what we did. In my shelter. So you have to explain. I don’t know how it’s supposed to work.”

He sat back on his heels, his grip slackening. “Explain,” he repeated. “How much?”

Her face was hot. “I found some holos in the wrecks. People wear fancy clothes. There’s a party where everyone dances and gets drunk. And it, um, seems like…it’s a very serious thing.”

“Yes. Very serious,” he said quietly. “A commitment for life.”

“Okay. That’s good. I wouldn’t like it if—”

His hands were gentle now. “If what, Rey?”

She was back to feeling young again. She broke from his gaze. “I don’t like people leaving me,” she rushed out.

He took her face in his hands. “I will never leave you, Rey. I will never throw you away. Never.”

“I’m just a scavenger,” she said fiercely. “I’ve hardly been anywhere. I know ships, and fixing things, and how to stay alive, and not much else. I don’t even know _this_ —”

He smoothed her hair back, pushed up and silenced her with a kiss. “It doesn’t matter what you _were_. You’re my _equal_. No one else can claim that. No one else can do what you do. No one else is what you _are_. What you don’t know, you’ll learn. I’ll teach you. You know I will.”

She felt his sincerity. She knew people well enough to know that sometimes what they were sure of today wasn’t so sure anymore a week or a month or a year from now. She also knew Kylo well enough by now to know that he was unshakable in whatever he set his will on—sometimes unnervingly so.

Tears ached at the backs of her eyes. She nodded hard, not trusting her voice.

He ran a thumb across her cheek, and she realized she was crying after all.

“It’s different everywhere,” he said. “The way I was brought up—”

He took a breath. He rarely talked about his past. _Rarely_ , Rey thought, as in _never_. What she knew of it, she knew only from visions or his dreams.

“The way I was raised,” he resumed, “I’d ask you to marry me. You’d accept or decline.”

His tone was detached, his phrasing disinterested. He was anything but.

Mischief spurted up in her. She couldn’t resist the chance to tease him. “Are you asking?”

The annoyance was back. “I already did.”

“No. You said, ‘I want you to.’ That’s not the same.”

“It’s exactly the same.”

“It’s bossier. The kind of thing you’d say to a _scavenger_.”

The consternation on his face was priceless. She could see him thinking it through.

He went back to one knee. “Rey of Jakku,” he said. “Will you do me the honor of marrying me?”

And oh! how he put his whole heart into it. It almost broke her own, how this formidable, powerful, often frightening man could bring himself to be so humble.

“Yes, Kylo,” she whispered. “I will.”

His triumph was all Kylo Ren, so overpowering she almost missed his joy. She thought she should be happy, too, but she was just dizzy. He always moved much too fast, knowing exactly what he was going to do; never needing to scout out the territory, make sure it was safe.

“When?” he said—more like demanded.

She gave it serious thought. “Maybe when we aren’t being hunted?”

He didn’t like it. She didn’t need the bond to tell that.

“That could be a long time,” he said.

“It’s incentive to do something about it. I’d really rather have done something besides face Unkar Plutt and his thugs this morning.”

She felt emotions flicker through him—surprise, satisfaction, eagerness, tenderness.

“We’ll need to do something about your fertility, then,” he said.

“ _Uh?”_ she choked, her face suddenly burning.

“The dark side can—” He stopped, resumed, “I can ensure you don’t get pregnant. But I can’t be trusted.”

Rey’s brain was frantically trying to catch up to the conversation. _Oh. We just— Oh!_

“Why not?” she said.

He gave her one of his looks. “Because nothing would please me more than to see my wife pregnant with my child.”

She went hot all over now, and she wasn’t even sure what kind of heat it was.

Have kids? Be a mother? She’d only dreamt of someone who loved her coming for her. She’d never gotten any further than that. _Couldn’t_ get any further.

“Not while we’re being hunted,” she said again, only partly to buy herself time to give the idea proper consideration.

He sighed. “We’ll go to the medbay when we return to the ship.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter took me a good three weeks of agonizing over, for a lot of reasons. I knew something bad was going to happen with the dark side, and I really didn't want it to. It felt like 100 steps back after all the struggle Rey and Kylo had to go through to get to where they are. But no matter how wrong it felt, I decided it was necessary to show how toxic the dark side has been made, not by the Force, but by _people_. If you're unhappy about what happens in the story, believe me when I say I'm not any happier about it. I hope subsequent events make it worth it.
> 
> Only Kylo Ren would propose in a TIE fighter. :-S But Rey makes him do it _right_.
> 
> Mr. Wizards and I talked about how much Rey would know about marriage. She's definitely heard of it, but it wouldn't be part of her experience on Jakku, where any partnerships would be only temporary sexual liaisons of convenience. So her ideas of what marriage entails and the customs surrounding it would be pretty vague. It might also explain how Kylo's offer on the _Supremacy_ could've seemed less to her than what it was.


	38. Focal Point

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which storm clouds begin to gather on Hux's horizon and Kreet puts his feet down.

Finn trudged across the building site, his boots squelching in the mud left by one of Takodana’s many rainstorms. They were never violent. Just _frequent_. It was like dodging blaster fire, trying to get anything done. And since he’d somehow become the guy in charge of Maz’s rebuilding project, that meant he was the one doing the dodging.

Well, not _somehow_. He discovered, to his amazement, that he had a knack for organization. He took charge of the workers, made sure they didn’t get in each other’s way. Things went faster and more smoothly after that. Stormtrooper training was good for something besides slaughtering people, it seemed.

He stopped a moment to just look around. The new building’s foundations had been laid, the first courses of stonework rising above them. A sense of stubborn hope permeated the chaos of mud and stone and pipe piled everywhere.

Finn tried to take it in, to feel the pride of accomplishment. Tried to let the fresh, green smell of the surrounding woods and the momentary quiet soothe him, make him forget that the destruction of Maz’s castle was his fault.

It wasn’t. Rationally, he _knew_ that. But he couldn’t help connecting the dots from the moment he refused to fire on the villagers on Jakku to when that First Order attack squad showed up on Takodana.

If only he’d obeyed orders on Jakku. If only he hadn’t helped Poe escape, if only he hadn’t stolen Han Solo’s ship with Rey and BB-8—

No. He didn’t wish that. _Any_ of it. Without those choices, he wouldn’t be here, building instead of destroying. He’d never have met Rey, or Rose—

His chest constricted and his breath suddenly came short. Clenching his jaw, he recalled training exercises meant for calm in battle situations: focus on the threat in front of you, right here, right now, filter out everything that wasn’t relevant to that.

The problem was, the only threat was within—a vague, nagging guilt that never seemed to leave him alone.

He should be doing…something. Something more than organizing work crews and hauling building materials and arguing with plumbers and masons and ventilation contractors about who bent the pipes or ordered the wrong kind of sand for the mortar.

The only problem was… _what?_

He shook his head. _Take care of what’s right in front of you_ , he told himself. _If you’re going to feel guilty about things that aren’t your fault, then at least be useful where you find yourself_.

He made himself start moving again, toward the haphazard stack of cargo boxes that was Maz’s temporary cantina.

The noise and smells of the crowded bodies inside were a shocking change from the rain-washed quiet outside. A holo cast a blue glow over the varied forms of Maz’s patrons, reflected from the glasses they drank from. Over the general hubbub, Finn caught snatches of the holo announcer’s voice: “Coruscant,” “Coronation,” “Extremely high security.”

He found himself hurrying across the room, squeezing between patrons and dodging serving droids. The glittering cityscape the holo panned across shifted to an unpleasantly familiar figure that towered over the beings drinking heedlessly below it.

Finn stopped, hatred curdling in his middle as he looked up at the holo of a smirking Hux.

The announcer intoned in voiceover: “The entire galaxy is jockeying for the opportunity to be part of an event that will go down in history as the moment that every world, every race was finally united under the banner of order—the First Order. This extraordinary occasion? The upcoming coronation of Supreme Leader Hux.”

Finn felt like he’d been hit point-blank with a blaster bolt.

“Supreme Leader Hux? _Hux?_ Where’s Kylo Ren? _Where’s Rey?”_ He pushed his way forward, to the very feet of Hux’s image. “WHERE’S REY?” he shouted up at it.

Faces turned, staring. The bantering, hooting voices around him fell silent.

He staggered back into a chair, dropped his head in his hands. “Where’s Poe? Where’s _Rose?”_ he asked for the thousandth time.

A small, strong hand fell on his shoulder. He looked around to see Maz, her eyes kind and compassionate behind her lenses. Chewie loomed behind her, his bright blue eyes on Finn as if he expected him to leap out of the chair and start randomly slugging people.

“Everyone I ever cared about, Maz,” he whispered. “Everyone I was ever _allowed_ to care about. Gone. I don’t even know how to find them. What do I do now?”

“Be patient,” Maz said. “The Force—”

“Don’t tell me about the Force. I _hate_ the Force!” Finn burst out. “The Force is what put Rey in that butcher’s hands! The Force is what _made_ him!”

Chewie gave a threatening growl.

“Hush, _se-lo sha’an_.” Maz patted Chewie’s massive, furry arm. “Let’s all have a drink and calm down.”

The Wookie towered over Finn, his sharp teeth slightly bared, a menacing growl rumbling in his chest. Finn ignored him to stare, seething and furious, at the holo of Hux. He didn’t care how Chewie felt about that—that _monster_ who’d been his best friend’s son.

Somehow, Maz coaxed him and Chewie to a quiet corner table. Drinks appeared, and a platter of fruit and flatbread. The holo still blared in the background.

Maz sat and shoved the platter toward Finn. “Eat.”

Finn automatically took a piece of flatbread. Chewie still rumbled.

“He knows he isn’t the only one worried about friends,” Maz said to Chewie, scolding. “That doesn’t make his pain any less. _You_ are old enough to appreciate that, _se-lo ah’las_.”

Chewie finally subsided, though the tips of his canines still showed.

“Finn.” Maz put an elbow on the table and leaned toward him. “Listen to me. The whole galaxy comes through this place. If there’s anywhere you’ll hear what happened to your friends, it’ll be here.”

“So, what, I’m just supposed to wait?” Finn said. “ _Kylo Ren_ has— _had_ Rey. Rose—” He stopped, scrubbed his face with both hands. “I never even had the chance—” His voice broke and he stopped, turned away.

Chewie gave a series of short roars.

“Not now,” Maz said.

Chewie’s next roar was more forceful.

Maz narrowed her eyes at him. “Maybe I should let _you_ tell him.”

“Tell me what?” Finn said.

“You don’t want to know,” Maz said. “Not right now.”

“ _What?”_ Finn said, running out of patience.

Maz shot Chewie a glare, then turned a sympathetic face to Finn. “You’re already upset, child, but if you’re certain…?”

Finn nodded once, hope struggling with foreboding in him.

“You asked what happened to Kylo Ren,” Maz said. “Hux overthrew him in a coup.”

“I got that,” Finn said shortly.

Maz nodded. “He escaped—there’s a bounty on his head.”

“ _Good_ ,” Finn said.

“And on the head of the rebel girl with him.”

Finn stiffened, his mind going ten different directions at once. “Rey’s alive! She’s with _him_. How? Where?”

“That, I haven’t heard. I did hear that he crippled three star destroyers when he escaped. Then he destroyed half of Laharna Spaceport, in the Outer Rim. Anyone who knew why is dead, so Tento Syndicate also has a bounty on his head. After that…” Maz sipped her drink. “They disappeared. No one has heard a whisper of them since.”

Finn sat back, trying to make sense of it. Whatever was going on, Rey didn’t seem able to escape Kylo Ren’s clutches, even after a coup—

 _No_ , Finn thought, suddenly queasy. _No, no, no_ …

He straightened, looking Maz, then Chewie in the eyes. “We have to get to Skywalker. He needs to know what happened on Crait. He needs to know that Kylo Ren still has Rey.”

Chewie roared.

“’Don’t waste your time,’ he says,” Maz translated.

Finn fixed Chewie with a hard stare. “Listen to me. You didn’t see what I did. You didn’t see the way Ren carried her to his shuttle. You didn’t see how he looked at her when she lay unconscious in the snow. I,” he said. “ _I_ saw.”

Chewie rocked back in his chair.

“And _you_ sent her to him,” he told Chewie. “After _Skywalker_ pushed her away.” He ground his teeth.

“Finn!” Maz snapped, just as furious as he was. “You have no right to accuse him. Chewbacca respected Rey—respected her well enough to let her make her own choices. She’s no weak fool. Don’t treat her like one.”

“She’s anything but weak,” Finn said. “But you don’t know Kylo Ren.”

Chewie rumbled.

“No, you don’t,” Finn said, guessing his objection. “Because Kylo Ren isn’t the boy you knew. He’s a man who orders the slaughter of whole villages. He’s a man who cuts down unarmed old men. Who tortures people. He’s a man _everyone_ is afraid of.” He looked Chewie straight in the eyes. “He’s a man who murders his own father.”

Chewie flinched.

“That— _that_ is the man who has Rey,” Finn snarled. “The man who— _wants_ —Rey.”

Maz stood up, suddenly seeming much taller than she was. “ _Finn_ —”

“No,” Finn broke in. “Someone needs to fix this. I know how strong she is—I knew her before any of you. You say she has the Force? Fine, okay, I have to believe you. But when I saw her, all she had was a mean stick. A mean stick and the Force she never used before in her life won’t make her any match for Kylo Ren, no matter how strong she is.”

Maz’s gaze behind her lenses turned assessing. “What do you propose?”

“We go back there. We find Skywalker and…” He pressed his lips tight, breathing through his nose. “… _explain_ that that to him. _Explain_ what happened to the Resistance. How they were forced to surrender to the First Order.” He breathed hard against the tightness of his chest, the burn behind his eyes. “How, if they’re lucky— _very_ lucky—they’re all dead now—”

“They aren’t dead,” Maz broke in.

Finn sat with his mouth still open. He closed it. “What?”

Maz leaned close and said slowly, “They…aren’t…dead.”

Finn felt like the ground had gone out from under him. “How do you know?”

“Good,” Maz said. “Now you’re listening. You haven’t asked how Hux staged his coup. He charged Kylo Ren with murder, treason, and aiding and abetting the enemy.”

Finn snorted at the mention of murder, then the rest hit him. “Aiding the enemy? Rey?”

“Someone helped the Resistance prisoners escape,” Maz said with what sounded suspiciously like pride.

Finn lurched forward, almost toppling the table. “What happened to them? Where are they? What are they doing—?”

Maz held up her hands, stopping the flood of his questions. “I don’t know. But it might give you a little more respect for Rey and what she’s capable of.”

Finn sat staring into space, processing it. “So…she helped them escape?” _Why didn’t she go with them?_

Chewie leaned close, a threating, furry presence as he grunted words at Finn.

Maz barked a laugh. “Or she convinced Kylo Ren to let them go!”

“No!” Finn slammed his hands on the table. Plates and cups jumped. “This isn’t a joke!”

“No, it isn’t,” Maz said seriously. “But would the Kylo Ren you knew have offered terms of surrender?”

That stopped Finn. Unbidden and unwilling, a memory came: Ren turning to stare at him from behind his mask in that village on Jakku. The cold hand of terror that had clenched in Finn’s gut, his complete and utter certainty that Ren knew he’d refused to fire—

Then Ren had turned again and walked away.

Unable to find his voice, Finn just shook his head in answer to Maz’s question.

“No,” Maz agreed. “I think you owe Chewbacca an apology. He may know Rey better than you do. And Kylo Ren.”

His whole world had shattered, pieces scattered around him. “I’m sorry, Chewie,” he said. “Really. But—” He held out his hands, begging for understanding. “Rey! With Kylo Ren!”

“The Skywalker lightsaber called to her when she was here,” Maz said. “A Skywalker son found her here and took her away with him.”

“A Skywalker abandoned her,” Finn said, hot. “Threw her away.”

“And it seems another Skywalker is determined to keep her,” Maz said.

Finn scrubbed his face with one hand. “I don’t understand what you’re trying to say.”

Maz cocked her head. “Don’t you?”

“The Force, right?” Finn scoffed.

“ _A_ force, anyway.” Maz sat down again, refilled her cup and drank, studying Finn over the rim.

Chewie cocked his head and gave a series grunting barks, gesturing with both hands.

Maz made a thoughtful noise. “You’re right. Skywalker at least owes us some answers.”

Finn started to get up, ready to go right now.

“But,” Maz said, raising a thin hand. “I say you should do what Rey asked—trust her. Give her some time.”

“I can’t do that, Maz,” Finn said. “Someone convinced me once to leave people I cared about.” He looked away. “I just can’t keep doing it.”

Maz’s fingers wrapped around his wrist. “Then keep your eyes open, Finn. See what’s in front of you, not what you think you know. Listen, and _hear_. I can feel things shifting. Changing.” She let his wrist go and settled a troubled gaze on him. “I told you once the only fight that matters is the fight against the dark side. I’m beginning to think that’s been the wrong fight all along.”

* * *

Rose Tico watched the readouts as the droid slid the last cell of coaxium into the reactor, completing the _Bright Princess’_ refueling. Another sop, all they could get from the latest hoped-for ally: fuel, weapons, supplies. Well, at least they could go as far and as fast as they wanted and would have plenty to eat along the way. She supposed she should be grateful.

She rubbed her eyes. Her vision still tended to blur or go double when she was tired or when she concentrated too hard, neither of which she much tried to avoid. It kept her from thinking too much. From _feeling_.

She followed the droid out of the engine room into the corridor that led to the ship’s common room. A voice echoed along the corridor—the smooth, artificial tones of a professional holo announcer.

Rose stepped into the common room. A holo loomed over Poe’s dark head, Ematt’s white one, Kaydel and a few others, all watching intently. Kaydel’s eyes were narrowed as if she could burn a hole through the holo announcer, a man with a metallic gold streak through his impeccably coifed hair. She recognized the style from Canto Bight as one affected by the well-to-do. Rose stopped, folded her arms and forced herself to pay attention.

“Security for the upcoming coronation is already incredibly tight,” the announcer said. “Entire blocks have been vacated, from Level One to the highest penthouses. Streets and skylanes have been blocked off, but the Coruscanti don’t mind. The honor of hosting the coronation of the new Supreme Leader of the First Order is well worth any minor inconvenience!”

Rose made a gagging noise. “The Smirking Snake of the First Order.”

From the other side of the holo, Poe gave a pale grin. He was thinner and looked worn and tired. So different than before Crait. It made her heart hurt.

“I forgot,” he said. “You got to see him up close and personal.”

Rose shuddered and hugged herself, bile rising in her throat. “If they hadn’t been holding me down, I would’ve tried to kill him.”

Kaydel got up and came to her. Putting an arm around her shoulders, she urged Rose over to where the others sat. Rose had told Kaydel one bleak night what had happened on the _Supremacy_. The touch of Hux’s gloved hand on her face, a vile mockery of tenderness, his gut-crawling innuendo—

And poor Finn, forced to watch and listen, as helpless as she was. She burned with rage and shame for him, for what he must’ve gone through when he was in the First Order.

 _Finn_ —

She shut off that line of thought before it could drag her down.

Someone shut off the holonet. People began trickling out, back to whatever they’d been doing before. Soon it was just her, Kaydel, Poe and Ematt, all staring at the space the holo had been and thinking their own thoughts.

“So,” Rose finally said. “The Jedhans were real helpful, huh?”

Poe ran a hand through his hair. “They did what they could. If Queen Trios was still alive, it might’ve been more.” He shrugged. “They’d already been a lab test for the first Death Star. I guess they weren’t excited about the idea of attracting any more attention.”

He said it lightly, but Rose could see the rejections piling up, weighing on him.

“About that,” she said.

Poe’s glance was equal parts interest and wariness.

She wanted to grab him by the shoulders and shout, _How many times do they have to say ‘no’ before you do something different!_

Instead, she put her hands on her knees and took a deep breath. “I’ve been thinking.”

Poe gave an encouraging nod. Ematt just leaned elbows on knees and listened.

“Maybe you’re talking to the wrong people,” she said. “You’ve been talking to people with fleets and ships and funds.”

Poe opened his mouth to say something, but Rose plunged on. “All the things we need to fight the First Order, right. But look at us.” She gestured to indicate the _Bright Princess_ and everyone aboard. “Would _you_ want to join us?”

Poe rubbed the back of his neck. “Rose, I know it looks bad now—”

Rose did something she never would’ve done a month ago—she interrupted a commanding officer. “That’s because it _is_ bad! You’re asking people to throw themselves on a live bomb. Who’s going to do that?”

Poe’s brows went down. Ematt straightened.

“No one,” she said. “No one who has anything to lose. That means you have to talk to the people who _don’t_ have anything left to lose.”

She thought of her big sister, dead. Of Finn. Most of the time, she made herself imagine him alive and safe somewhere. The bad times were when she imagined him dead, that big, honest heart of his silenced forever. The worst times were when she imagined him captured by the First Order.

And the very worst of all was _not knowing_.

Tears pushed at the backs of her eyes. She scowled and swallowed them down.

She leaned forward, toward these people who’d been in the Rebellion or born to Rebellion fighters, willing them to hear, to understand. “You’ve all been fighting one kind of war. The kind with X-wings and fleets and armies. There’s another kind. The kind where the only thing you care about is hurting your enemy, because winning is just a crazy dream.”

Over her head, Poe and Kaydel shared a look. Poe put a firm hand over hers. “Come on, Rosie. That’s the head injury talking.”

Kaydel rubbed a hand up and down her arm and said gently, “You know the doctor said depression might be a problem.”

“Maybe it is,” Rose said. “Maybe it’s the truth, too. Let me tell you something. You want to know what me and Paige did on Hays Minor before we joined the Resistance? We put together homemade bombs. We studied schematics for ships and walkers and mining crawlers so we’d know the best places to put them.”

“You’re talking about terrorism,” Ematt said in his deep, quiet voice.

“Yes,” Rose said defiantly. “Have you seen Hays Minor?”

Ematt shook his head. Poe took back his hand and shifted uncomfortably.

“They might as well have fired their Starkiller weapon at it,” Rose said. “They forced people into slavery in the mines. They stripped and shelled the planet. They took the little kids for stormtroopers. Then the gangs came in. I was lucky. So was Paige. Our mother…” Rose looked at Kaydel, because she couldn’t bring herself to look at the two men. “The gangs took her.”

She shook with the struggle not to cry. Kaydel hugged her.

“I’m sorry, Rose,” Poe said gently. “I didn’t know.”

She did turn to look at them then. “Now you do. Now you see I know what I’m talking about when I tell you, go to places like Hays Minor. Find people from the Hosnian System who don’t have homes and families to go back to. Get them resources, information, whatever they can use. I promise you, they’ll be happy to do everything they can to hurt the First Order—especially if you give them a chance at that coronation.”

Poe and Ematt exchanged a troubled look. But they didn’t dismiss the idea out of hand.

* * *

The hassash—Kreet?— _Kreet!_ Kylo thought and shook his head—had stolen the holocron.

It had been being sneaky—he’d caught only glimpses of it after it bashed Vader’s holocron into submission on Jakku’s rocks. When he reached his quarters on the _Relentless_ and opened the door, it scuttled past and under his bed. He narrowed his eyes.

Kylo could feel the holocron’s pull through the Force, like a neutron star drawing everything nearby into its gravity well. He crossed the room and went on hands and knees to peer under the bed. Three gleaming red eyes peered back.

Kreet hissed.

“Give it to me,” Kylo hissed back.

Teeth glinted in what little light shined under there. Quick as a blaster bolt, the creature snapped at his reaching hand. Only the Force’s forewarning let Kylo snatch it back in time. Sitting back on his heels, he reached into the hassash’s mind.

He met anger. An image of him and Rey, both faces twisted with rage, lightsabers raised against each other. An animal’s instinctive drive to prevent strife among its family.

 _Family?_ It all came rushing back, so hard and so quickly he gasped—what had happened with Rey. In the press of organizing a protective force on Jakku, he’d pushed it all aside to savor later, dizzy and overwhelmed with emotions he hadn’t experienced in years. What was the exhilaration of power, the triumph of victory over an enemy compared to _this?_

“She wants me,’ he whispered. “ _Me!_ She said _‘yes!’”_

Kreet made a vaguely disapproving noise as if to remind him how close he’d come to losing everything.

“It won’t happen again,” Kylo said. “I’ll take precautions.”

Kreet hissed threateningly in reply.

The comm on the desk behind him chimed. “Kylo?” Rey’s voice said. “I’m finished here.” “Here” being the _Relentless’_ medbay. He caught a flash of faint embarrassment through the bond. “I’m heading to the bridge,” she added.

With a frustrated snarl, he unfolded himself from the floor and crossed to the desk. He tapped the comm. “I’m on my way.”

* * *

Rey stood in front of the viewports of the _Relentless’_ bridge. Kylo paused to admire her, to do something he’d rarely allowed himself to indulge in—to really _look_.

Silhouetted against the starfield behind her, she stood proud and tall—her slightness made him forget that she was tall for a woman—her weight shifted subtly to one leg, her hand resting lightly on her lightsaber. To most eyes, she’d look relaxed and casual. To his, it was clear how quickly and smoothly she could move into a fighting stance. It was the only trace of the scavenger he could see.

Oh! she was glorious. Beautiful in her slim, clean lines, the new cut of her dark hair showing the golden curve of her neck. Part of him wanted to walk over, crush her in his arms and bury his face in that neck, drink in her sun-touched scent, lose himself in her, the reality of her here, with him. But he only stood watching her, basking in the brilliance and warmth that emanated from her.

He felt the bridge crew’s attention gradually shift from Rey to him. How strange that their admiration was no longer a threat, but a tribute. It was right that they should admire and appreciate her. Tens of thousands of people to protect and honor her instead of just one man, no matter how powerful.

She must’ve sensed the change in the crew—she turned.

Her curious touch feathered over him through the bond. There was a question in her eyes.

He crossed the gleaming black deck to her, slid his gloved hand down her arm and folded her hand in his. He bent his head to whisper, “Do you know how beautiful you are?”

She drew back, suddenly flustered. “No. I’m just—”

“Magnificent. Special. Extraordinary—”

“Stop,” she said. “I’m not.”

“You are. You’re going to have to get used to hearing it. Maybe someday you’ll believe it.”

She only shook her head. He could sense her confusion, the way his words flew in the face everything she believed about herself. It saddened him, but he would make sure she’d eventually see the truth.

He moved toward the captain’s office, drawing her with him.

Everyone was there: A group of Nightfolk in their grey robes standing silently against the walls; DR-8853, the Security Bureau commander; the _Raptor’s_ Captain Arkady and his commanders; the commanders of the _Relentless_. And of course, Captain Vach. All nodded courteously as Kylo and Rey entered—all but Vach.

“Why, might I ask,” he said, his cold gaze raking Rey, “is a rebel in attendance here?”

The tension spiked in the room…along with Kylo’s anger. One of the Nightfolk hissed softly. Everyone seemed to be trying very hard _not_ to look at Vach.

Fury running hot under his skin, Kylo raised a hand.

“I told you, I’m not a rebel,” Rey said first, her own anger clear in her voice. “I only ended up with the Resistance by accident. I don’t know about your wars, and I don’t want any part of them.”

Vach’s blond brows arched in disdain. “And yet here you are. And so you took part in killing Supreme Leader Snoke.”

“I didn’t want any part of _him_ , either,” she said. “I only came for Kylo.”

Vach pounced. “And the rebels? The ones whose escape was aided?”

“Enough,” Kylo snarled.

Rey laid a hand on his arm, a calming gesture. “Yes, I did that,” she said without a trace of apology. “They were kind to me when I was with them. They took care of my wounded friend. I owed them.” She gave Vach a look he suspected someone on the receiving end of her staff might see. “The debt’s been paid, and then some.”

“Hm.” Vach sat back and eyed her speculatively. “It seems you do a great deal out of loyalty.”

If Vach meant it mockingly, it had the opposite effect on the others in the room. If anything, their admiration increased.

“For people who deserve it,” she shot back.

The corners of Vach’s lips lifted. He bent his head in acquiescence.

It took Kylo a moment to realize what she hadn’t said, only implied— _he_ deserved her loyalty. Everything seemed to stop, the whole galaxy hanging still around that realization. He thought he understood how she felt about him; he didn’t know how she could keep surprising him, how every unprompted offering was a gift.

He covered his surprise by seeing her into the seat beside his. The attention left _her_ confused and awkward, and he distracted himself by trying to ease it—a light touch at her knee under the table, a brush of gratitude through the bond.

He scanned the men and women around the table—the white-jacketed Security Bureau officers, the dark blue and black of navy and army officers. They all met his gaze, respectful and attentive.

“We went to Jakku to examine the observatory established by the Empire,” Kylo began, “and abandoned after the Battle of Jakku. I found evidence that the Emperor sought a Force-powered weapon on Rakata. As a child, Hux was part of the evacuation of the Empire’s highest leaders to the Unknown Regions. I suspect the presence of First Order ships at Rakata now signals his intent to resume the Emperor’s search.”

Vach folded his hands on the table. “Indeed. That was my conclusion, as well.”

“Why would Hux want a _Force_ -powered weapon?” Arkady said, frowning. “He thinks the Force is nothing but an archaic religion.”

“He knows it’s more than that,” Kylo said. “Snoke taught him. So did I.” Dark satisfaction threaded through him.

“Nevertheless, Arkady’s right,” Vach said. “Hux’s religion is technology. The idea that he’d turn to the Force for a weapon is unusual.”

Kylo cocked his head, considering. This was why he didn’t want to kill Vach unless absolutely necessary—the man had useful talents.

“A valid point,” he said. “But beside the point.” He swept the table with his gaze again. “Our goal is to remove Hux without destroying the First Order. Like cutting out diseased flesh.”

Beside him, Rey wrinkled her nose.

“Assassination,” Vach said. “Which would do nothing to remove Hux’s partisans. We’d still find ourselves in a civil war.”

Murmurs of agreement went around the table.

“What are Hux’s weaknesses?” Kylo said, knowing full well what they were.

“His ego,” Vach said. “His penchant for expensive toys.”

“Exactly,” Kylo said. “The First Order has suffered some disastrous losses under Hux’s command. _Expensive_ losses. Starkiller Base. The _Supremacy_ and over half a dozen _Resurgent_ -class star destroyers. Hundreds of thousands of troops in both cases. Now he’s arranging a coronation on Coruscant with all the pomp and glitter he can muster, and an obscene show of military might. _More_ expense.” He leaned forward. “What happens if his cash flow is cut off?”

He heard Rey’s breath catch. The murmurs around the table this time were appreciative.

Vach actually looked pleased. “Clever,” he said. “How do you plan to do that?”

“When he was building up the First Order, Snoke made agreements with the Nikto Cartel for funding,” Kylo said. “Over time, he entered into agreements with other criminal syndicates, Black Sun and others, shielding their slaving and gambling and smuggling operations in exchange for kickbacks.” He leaned back again. “Does this sound like a plan for order in the galaxy?”

“That might’ve happened in the early days, when the First Order was still struggling to build from the Empire’s ashes,” Arkady said, clearly shaken. “Surely not now.”

“We have contacts as well as agents in several of the galaxy’s major syndicates,” DR-8853 put in. “I can promise you, it’s continuing.”

“We have all the resources of the _Relentless_ and the _Raptor_ ,” Kylo said. “I propose we use them.” He turned his attention to DR-8853. “You have intel on the syndicates—their bosses, their bases of operation.”

“Yes, sir,” DR-8853 said.

“Targets,” Kylo said.

Vach actually smiled. “Excellent.”

“The First Order won’t support _criminals_ ,” Arkady muttered. “Not if I have anything to do with it.”

Chatter began between the Security Bureau personnel and the naval officers—some impromptu strategizing, Kylo sensed.

“That’s only one prong of the attack,” he said. “Rey and I will take on the other. We’ll undermine the more conventional sources of funding. The corporations, the investors.”

The chatter died down and attention returned to him. He sensed questions and curiosity swirling around him.

“Forgive me,” Vach said. “Your knowledge and powers are substantial, but I fail to see how they’ll gain entrée into such circles.”

Kylo decided there was some value in having worn a mask for so many years—as far as nearly all the galaxy knew, Ben Solo and Kylo Ren were two different people. And Ben Solo, son of Senator Leia Organa, had disappeared for training fifteen years ago, never to reappear.

He sat back. “Like the Security Bureau, I have contacts.”

Rey knew. He glanced to the side to see her widened eyes. Through the bond, he felt the sudden boil of her emotions.

“We’ll require a small civilian ship,” Kylo said.

DR-8853 nodded once. “We can do that. We also can provide untraceable credit chips. They’re often necessary for Security Bureau transactions.”

“Good,” Kylo said. “When the _Raptor_ and _Relentless_ depart for the cartel targets, Rey and I and a guard of Nightfolk will leave for Cantonica.”

It was audacious, unlikely, but Vach stroked his lip and nodded slowly.


	39. Predators

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Rey whispers a secret Kylo isn't meant to hear.

_This is crazy!_ Rey thought, seething silently all the way from the _Relentless’_ bridge to Kylo’s quarters.  By the time they reached the door, she was ready to explode.

The door opened and the hassash scuttled out between their feet. Rey jumped and yelped, startled. His face thunderous, Kylo spun, one gloved hand outstretched. His gaze flicked to Rey, back to the hassash, and his hand lowered to come to rest on her back. She let him steer her inside. _Then_ she exploded.

“Kylo, you can’t trust that captain! You can’t send these ships away alone!”

He didn’t answer, instead turning to order dinner. She sighed and paced, waiting for him to finish. He finally turned back and sat on the edge of the desk.

“You told me to think like a scavenger,” he said.

That stopped her argument cold. This definitely wasn’t his usual approach, but then look at how he’d dealt with Snoke. That showed he had a cunning streak. And if you wanted to live long as a scavenger, cunning was a good tool to have in your kit.

“Right,” she conceded. “But I wouldn’t let that captain out of my sight.”

“He won’t be,” he said calmly. “The Nightfolk are on all three ships. They’ll know about any problems and deal with them. And you underestimate what you’ve done here. If Vach decides to betray us, it’ll be against his whole crew. These people won’t willingly give up what you showed them.”

She eyed him. This cool and relaxed Kylo Ren was a new and unfamiliar creature. She remembered rude talk at the washing tables in Niima Outpost: _Thank R’iia he got laid! You couldn’t even blink in his direction before_.

Was that all it took to take that edge of barely restrained violence off him? Sex? She wrinkled her nose. She didn’t believe it.

“You don’t believe me,” he said, mistaking the source of her skepticism. “They _love_ you, Rey. Every one of them would die to protect you.”

She snorted.

He looked ready to argue when the door chimed and a droid whirred in with their meal. The smells emanating from the covered dishes made her forget everything else.

There had been rations on the Silencer, but they’d still missed both dinner and breakfast when they were on Jakku. It didn’t bother her much—she was used to missing meals. But it also meant that she had a couple of meals to make up for.

She made herself wait while Kylo served, resisting the temptation to grab a roll and a slice of meat and get started. She looked up from her avid watching of the food to catch him watching _her_. The twitch of his lips suggested a smile. The amusement she felt through the bond confirmed it.

“I’m hungry,” she said with as much dignity as she could manage after swallowing a mouthful of saliva.

He added another slice of meat and spoonful of vegetables to her plate. “I know.” He served himself. “Don’t wait for me.”

He knew how she ate—they’d eaten together on Jannessi. The first time, after an initial burst of horror, he’d managed to smother his alarm. When he annoyed her, she didn’t bother trying to restrain herself. Now, though—

Well, she _tried_. She waited politely until both their plates were ready. She _didn’t_ gobble the whole slice of meat off her fork, and she _didn’t_ tip up her plate to drink the juices. It took her several bites to eat the roll, instead of cramming it into her mouth.

She was aware of his attention on her, the purl of his satisfaction though the bond.

She stopped eating. “What?”

He shook his head, still with that ghost of a smile. “I’m glad you enjoy it.”

“Mmm,” she said, suspicious, but returned to the food.

So many things she’d never had—fresh vegetables, fresh bread, herb-infused oil, rich soup with interesting salty bits floating in it, wine that tasted like the woods at dusk. It all made her dizzy.

When their plates were cleared, Kylo uncovered another dish, this one of glistening fruits, red and purple and orange, surrounded by fluted pastry petals.

She caught her breath. It looked almost too pretty to eat. Almost.

The fruit tasted sweet, laced with spices and some strong liquor. This time, she took a moment to savor it. She closed her eyes and hummed with pleasure.

She opened her eyes to find Kylo frozen, his fork poised in midair. His eyes were very dark.

“You shouldn’t do that.” His voice was deeper than usual.

She frowned, wondering what manners she’d violated now. “Do what?”

He carefully put his fork down, flattened his hands on either side of his plate. “Make sounds like that. _You_ might become dessert.”

She blinked, then sudden heat rushed through her. She wet her lips. His gaze dropped hungrily to the flick of her tongue.

“Remember, on the _Precursor_ ,” she said, “when I said I was thinking of predators?”

His eyes jumped back to hers. “Yes?”

“Yeah,” she said. “Like that.”

He studied her a long moment, one that coiled low in her belly. “I won’t promise to behave this time.”

She cleared her throat, willing her voice not to shiver the way the rest of her had begun to. “I didn’t think you would then.”

“No.” He stood, came around to her side of the table, took her hand and pulled her up. Her knees were shaky. She put her free hand on his chest to steady herself.

He gently cupped her face, bent his head and kissed her. His mouth tasted sweet and spicy from the dessert.

“My Rey…” he breathed.

He pushed back the collar of her shirt, bent his head again and sucked the angle between neck and shoulder. She gasped and her knees went out from under her. His arms came around her, one at her waist, the other under her bottom, pulling her close and supporting her.

“My betrothed,” he murmured in her ear. “ _Mine_.”

Her breath caught and her mouth went dry at his hungry possessiveness. Her instincts suddenly screamed,  _Capture! Imprisonment!_ An impulse to thrust away seized her.

“Shh.” He nuzzled into her hair and kissed her ear. “You don’t have to run away.”

“It feels like I do.” Her voice came out wobbly, part alarm, part arousal.

“I know.” He scooped her up in his arms, carried her the few steps to the bed.

“Ben—”

He set her down, braced his hands on either side of her, looming and inescapable. His eyes were almost black in the low light, burning. “He’s not here. You’re stuck with me.”

He pulled up her shirt as his lips brushed down her neck, his breath hot on her skin.

She closed her eyes and shivered, threading her fingers into his hair, strands of black silk. “ _Kylo_.”

Yes, he was very much Kylo now, the one who’d hunted her and carried her off. He was hunting her now. His power coiled around her, silky and seductive. She shuddered out a breath and let it pull her down, wondering distantly how succumbing to anything could be so pleasant.

He brushed back her hair and turned her head to the side, set his mouth to her neck, a circle of fire. His teeth pinched a moment later.

“Tell me what you feel,” he said, his voice soft and dark by her ear.

“You know.”

“Say it.”

Her breath and heart sped. The knowledge he was marking her made heat unspool through her.

“I feel like you want to devour me,” she whispered.

He got her shirt over her head and pushed her down on the bed. Lowering his head, his lips fastened on the swell of her breast. She made a noise and pulled him closer, her fingers digging into the hard muscle of his shoulder, clenching in his hair. He soothed the spot with his tongue.

“You like being devoured.”

“Yes,” she gasped, going weak at the thought of all the other places he might mark her.

His hands slid down her sides, almost spanning her waist. His thumbs hooked in the waistband of her pants and began sliding them down her hips.

“Good.” There was a wealth of smug satisfaction in his tone. “Because I’ll enjoy devouring you.”

He proceeded to do exactly that.

* * *

Ben Organa Solo, scion of royalty, would never have dreamed of despoiling his bride before their wedding night. Kylo Ren, spawn of villains and scoundrels, had no such qualms. The quicker he laid claim to her, the better he liked it. Fortunately, Rey’s half-feral upbringing made sure she didn’t raise any obstacles.

He gently smoothed a strand of hair away from her face and kissed her freckled shoulder. She murmured and stirred but didn’t wake.

Now, he needed to persuade her to move into his quarters. She was used to living alone, so he expected a protracted campaign. He had a plan.

As with all wild things, food was his best ally. She was still painfully thin to his eye, all angles and sinew and wiry muscle. As he had tonight, he’d feed her good dinners, carry her to bed and keep her there until morning.

If he was careful, the routine would slowly become custom, her clothes would gradually accumulate in his closet and it would be done.

He folded around her in bed, pulling her close and breathing in her scent of sun and wind, savoring the feel of her nestled into him, her slender arms tucked over his.

The tenderness he felt for her surprised him. It worried him, too. She accepted him eagerly in bed. She’d agreed (at some nebulous future date) to become his wife. But a spiteful little voice in the back of his mind kept whispering, _Why?_

Was it only loneliness? He knew he was the first constant in her life, the only one to stay with her day after day no matter what happened. He’d seen how hard she’d clung to anyone who gave her the hope of that—his own father, his uncle, the stormtrooper traitor.

It seemed so weak and pale an attachment compared to the intensity of what he felt for her. She was the part of him he’d never known was missing. Her courage and brightness and clarity lit the bleak darkness in him. The horror of his life was made bearable by her acceptance. Her trust was all the more precious for the difficulty of having won it.

He’d never let her sense his doubt—he’d die before he did. And if she ever changed her mind…

Well, he’d let her go as he promised. And try not to spiral into destruction.

While he had her, he’d do everything in his power to show her what he felt for her. Nuzzling into her hair, he fell asleep to the thought, the deep sleep he only ever enjoyed with her.

He half-woke when she stirred. She turned and slid her arms around him, snuggled into his chest. He was just sinking back into sleep when she whispered, almost too soft to hear.

“I love you, Kylo.”

The words shot through him like a lightning strike, blazing heat and light along every nerve. Only the long years of controlling and guarding himself around Snoke kept him from reacting—either outwardly or where she might feel it through the bond.

He touched it cautiously, not wanting to betray his wakefulness.

She thought he was asleep. She thought he couldn’t hear. She felt vulnerable, foolish, weak even saying the words, but she couldn’t keep them in anymore. She felt…

Warmth flooded her, overflowing, so much it poured into him. He should’ve known. Nothing about Rey was ever weak or pale. If she chose to join him, it would be with the same exuberant abandon she did everything else.

Joy burst through him, almost painful in its foreignness.

He also realized, equally painfully, that he wouldn’t have believed her if she’d told him any other way.

* * *

Kylo was very glad that he’d dealt gently with DR-8853 on the _Precursor_. The man was proving to be invaluable. He’d managed to procure a Taylander executive shuttle, something common enough to avoid attracting undue attention, while its graceful, rounded lines blended in with the elegant yachts and sharp-edged Sienar shuttles resting in their berths at Cantonica’s spaceport.

In the pilot’s seat, Rey positively glowed. As a planet-bound scavenger, piloting wasn’t a skill he’d’ve expected her to possess. He should’ve realized. _Someone_ had to’ve flown the _Millennium Falcon_ in the escape from Jakku—and it wouldn’t have been the stormtrooper traitor. When he stopped to consider that there must’ve been TIEs in pursuit, he was even more impressed. He might ask her to let him see that memory someday.

She stood, slotted herself between his legs where he sat in the copilot’s seat, took his face between her hands and kissed him. “ _Thank you_ , Kylo. I _love_ flying.”

His hands curled around her hips. “How did you learn?”

“I found flight simulation chips in the wrecks. At night, or during dust storms, I’d plug them into my computer and practice.”

He pulled her closer. “What else do you know that I don’t know about?”

A little smile curved her lips and she raised her brows. “Maybe I shouldn’t tell you.”

“You know I can take whatever I want,” he teased.

She froze, fear flashing across her face. He instantly dropped his hands from her and would’ve backed away if he could. He couldn’t, not with her standing between his knees.

Her face swiftly cleared and she set her hands on his shoulders as if to keep him from scrambling over the back of the chair. “No. It’s all right.”

“Rey, I shouldn’t have—”

“Stop, Kylo. It just…caught me by surprise. I’m fine.” The little smile crept back. “Anyway, that didn’t work out too well for you the last time.”

He searched her face, searched her through the bond to see if she was only trying to placate him. He felt ripples of remembered fear ebbing away, like from a stone thrown into deep water.

He let out a breath and forced himself to relax. “No. You scared me.”

Her eyes went wide. “I did?”

“No one but Snoke ever breached my mind. That was the first time you surprised me. Not the last.”

The little smile spread into a wicked one. “You’re not the first to underestimate me.”

They were back to teasing. The last of the tension left him. “I will never,” he promised, “underestimate you again.”

She nodded once in satisfaction and stepped back to let him stand.

Kreet scuttled out from under the pilot’s seat where he’d ridden. Kylo had considered leaving the hassash behind on the _Relentless_ , then decided he’d better not. The creature had already hidden the holocron in the ship’s guts. Kylo could sense it, but couldn’t reach it, not even with the Force. If he left hassash and holocron together for any length of time, he suspected he’d never see that holocron again.

They stepped into the cabin where a dozen Nightfolk waited, key to his plan.

“You’ll need to feed gently here,” he told them. “I don’t want anyone realizing what you can do. You’ll appear as simply our bodyguard.”

 _If anyone wishes to harm you, we will feed_ , they whispered.

“Or Rey,” Kylo said.

Their gazes moved to her, then back. _Or the Bright-one_ , they agreed.

Rey’s drew together in puzzlement. “Bodyguard?”

He turned to her. “You’ll have to get used to calling me ‘Ben’ again.”

“Why?”

“Here,” he said, “I’m Ben Organa. Son of Leia Organa, Senator of Alderaan to the New Republic.”

He found himself holding his breath as he waited for her reaction, both dreading and expecting joy.

What he sensed from her instead was surprise slowly blooming into wonder, tinged with confusion. “People are going to want to kill Ben Solo?”

“Ben Organa,” he corrected. “Maybe, but that isn’t the point. We’re going turn people here.”

She frowned. “Kylo—”

“Ben,” he corrected again. “Not like we did on the ships. More subtly. They won’t even know what’s happening.”

It was how he’d selected the Nightfolk accompanying them. The elders. Those with the most control, the most sensitivity. He didn’t want people frothing and screaming in terror when he entered a room with them in tow.

She was still frowning when he put a hand on the small of her back and urged her to the shuttle’s boarding ramp.

* * *

They took an open speeder from the landing field into Canto Bight’s Old Town, skimming past arcades lined with shops with eye-catching displays in wide windows, open air cafes, the arches of soaring hotels. Rey’s head swiveled, taking it all in. Kreet rode on her shoulder, stroking her hair and chirping happily.

Kylo watched Rey’s face, the light of what she saw reflecting into him. It gave him pleasure to show her that the galaxy wasn’t all danger and deprivation. It pained him, too, to realize that was all she’d ever known.

He’d never been to Canto Bight, but the opulence was familiar from other settings. He sifted through memory, trying to retrieve and reassemble the shattered, rusty pieces of Ben Organa Solo, discarded so many years ago. Rey would probably be better at it than he would. Somehow, the thought comforted him.

It had been fifteen years since he’d been the Senator’s son. Even if Snoke had never been, he reminded himself he’d be different now, a man, no longer a gangly boy. Still, it wasn’t going to be easy reconciling Kylo Ren and Ben Organa.

At the hotel he’d chosen, she continued to look around in unembarrassed awe and amazement.

The Nightfolk stood nearby, their own little knot of darkside energy as they scanned the room from under their hoods. The well-dressed guests crossing the hotel’s lobby glanced and gave them a discreetly wide berth. Kylo saw Rey watching them.

“They’re like the Teedos,” she said.

He just looked his question.

“On Jakku. They don’t have their own names. They’re all just ‘Teedo.’ And every Teedo seems to know what the other ones do, even if they weren’t there.”

“Telepaths?”

She made a considering face. “Maybe.” She was quiet a moment. “I rescued BB-8 from a Teedo. Usually, they leave me alone, and I leave them alone. But this one was taking something right near my shelter. I couldn’t let that go.”

Kylo didn’t know what a Teedo looked like, but he could imagine Rey in her rags with her scavenged staff and her fire, facing down whatever hapless being imposed on her. Treasuring the image, he just nodded and stepped up to the desk to arrange for rooms for their party.

The desk clerk eyed Kreet with well-hidden horror where the hassash now perched on Kylo’s shoulder. “I’m sorry, sir, but animals aren’t allowed in the hotel. I can arrange for—”

“It’s telepathically linked to me,” Kylo said. “It needs to remain with me.”

Rey’s head whipped around, her eyes narrowing, but his attention was on the desk clerk—he sensed an argument brewing.

Kylo reached for the Force. “ _The creature will do no harm. It can stay_.”

The man blinked, confusion on his face. “The creature will…” he began, wavering. “I’m afraid, sir—”

Kylo clenched his jaw, not expecting to find someone resistant to Force persuasion at a hotel’s reception desk. He’d just have to push harder.

“An extra charge should cover it, don’t you think?” Rey suddenly put in. She gave Kylo a look.

“Extra—?” he began. _Oh. A bribe_.

“Perhaps it will,” the clerk said, perking up.

Rey gave him a bright smile.

Seething, Kylo pulled a credit chip out of his glove and slid it across the desk. When he had the key chips, he gathered Rey up and stalked off, the Nightfolk drifting after.

“He would have _done_ it without the bribe,” he said when they were in the lift with the Nightfolk.

He urged Kreet from his shoulder to the shoulder of the Night-one behind him. Kreet made a half-whine, half-groan of protest, but went. The Night-one reached up and soothed the hassash.

Rey slid him another look. “I’m pretty sure Ben Organa doesn’t Force-command people.”

“He does if they need it,” he muttered.

She slipped her arm through his. “Bribes are easier.”

He just grunted, only a little mollified. This was going to be harder than he thought.


	40. Transformations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Rey finds herself totally out of her element and Kylo begins to realize there might be life after the dark side.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mr. Wizards always asks me, “Why can’t your characters ever just have fun? Why can’t they go to the beach? Why can’t they go on vacation somewhere?” So for Mr. Wizards and everyone else who thinks like he does, Kylo and Rey are on a working vacation. Enjoy some fluff for the holidays!

_This place is amazing!_

Rey couldn’t stop looking around Canto Bight’s streets, her scavenger’s instincts overwhelmed by the…the sheer _muchness_ all around her—the people in their fine clothes, the beautiful buildings, gleaming speeders, urns of bright flowers, the smell of food and music and laughter tumbling through an open door. The entertainment holos she’d found in the wrecks couldn’t begin to compare.

She should be watching out for danger, keeping an eye on the people passing. Somehow Kylo’s big, black-clad form beside her let her drop her guard for once and just enjoy everything.

She noticed him scanning the storefronts, pausing now and then to glance at signs and peer into windows.

Rey peered too, the glittering rings and bracelets and earrings displayed in the window beside them dazzling. “Where are we going?”

Kylo urged her on. “We need clothes.”

“What’s wrong with the clothes we have?”

“We look too military.” His gaze raked her up and down. “ _You_ look First Order. That won’t work.”

Rey had never thought about how she looked. Clothes were for covering up—that was all. She pursed her lips and studied the other people on the street, some of them wearing the most impractical outfits. Dresses that forced women to take tiny, mincing steps; heels so high the wearers threatened to topple over, if they didn’t break an ankle first; men with collars that would hardly let them turn their heads. Clothes obviously served another purpose here.

Kylo made a satisfied noise, stopped and steered her through a door.

Light and colors and fragrances overwhelmed her. It took a moment to realize she was surrounded by racks of clothes. She stopped short.

Her eyes widened as they roved over the bright colors and softly draping fabrics. “I can’t wear any of this!” she hissed, trying to back out of the store again as the shopkeeper came toward them.

His hand on her back stopped her like a tractor beam. “Rey, you have a choice. You can pick out clothes, or I’ll pick them out for you.” He bent his head and said in his best menacing purr, “And I’ll remind you, my mother was a princess.”

She quailed. “I’ll do it.”

A smile ticked at the corner of his mouth. “I’ll leave you to it.” To the shopkeeper waiting a polite distance away, he said, “She’ll need formal dress, casual wear, something for business, and sporting wear.” He walked to the door, then paused. “And night wear.”

Heat flamed into Rey’s face. _I’ll get you_ , she sent through the bond. He might not’ve gotten the words, but he got something. The smile increased to a flicker before he stepped out the door.

Rey turned back and faced the shopkeeper, a woman with a long, triangular face and carbon-black skin, a species she didn’t recognize. Almost as tall as Kylo, she wore diaphanous draperies that seemed to move and float with a will of their own. The woman advanced, smiling, and Rey had to fight an impulse to apologize for taking up her time and bolt.

The idea of _choosing clothes_ was so foreign that her brain just locked up. _Choosing clothes_ meant finding something that would cover you appropriately and wasn’t falling apart or unacceptably dirty. Maybe if you were lucky, trading a repair job for a decent second-hand pair of boots or pants.

As the woman drew her in and steered her from one outrageous outfit to the next, Rey realized that she’d better take an active part in the process if she didn’t want to be made completely ridiculous.

Once they’d settled that she wouldn’t wear anything too revealing, too bright or too glittery, any skirt whether short or long, or anything that hampered free movement, they began to make progress. Still, when Kylo’s order had been filled, Rey was happy to escape.

Golden afternoon light filled the street outside. People strolled the wide sidewalks, looking in shop windows, laughing, chatting. All were graceful, elegant, well-dressed. She sensed glances coming her way, flicking up and down, dismissing. A raised eyebrow here. Bent heads and titters there. A step too wide around her where she stood on the sidewalk with her bags, a disdainful brush at a sleeve, brushing away a scavenger’s dirt.

_Stop, Rey_ , she told herself. _No one knows you’re a scavenger. It’s only what Kylo said—you look military. First Order_. Still, instinct fluttered in her throat: _run, hide_.

Rey looked around, forcing her breaths slow and even. The window of the shop beside her displayed an amazing kinetic sculpture that changed shape as its whorled arms spun. She turned and slipped through the door.

Dim light and the familiar musty odor of old things enveloped her. She looked around and the tightness in her chest loosened. The shop _was_ full of old things.

There were carved chairs and a table inlaid with a rainbow of different woods. On the walls were sculptures that dripped light and mirrors that reflected other than what lay in front of them. A case held a flight of birds carved from jewels and a machine that whirred with impossibly tiny gears.

Rey drifted to the case and gazed, entranced, itching to take the little thing in hand and figure out how it worked. Her eyes suddenly jumped to the object behind it—a polyhedron that would fit in the palm of a hand. She tried to decide what it was made of. Metal? Crystal? Fantastic interlocking patterns were etched on a surface that sheened with rainbows of light.

And it _called_ to her. Not like her kyber had, with soundless song, but magnetically, drawing her whole being. She pressed her hand to the case’s glass and without willing it, found herself reaching for the Force. The object shifted—

“Is there something you’d like to see, madam?” said a deep, soft voice behind her.

Rey spun. A slim man not much older than she regarded her politely—the shopkeeper, she realized.

She backed up—habit, because most people didn’t want a scavenger anywhere near their valuables. “I, um,” she stammered. She glanced at the polyhedron. It had settled back to the shelf. “I was looking at that—that thing. What is it?”

The young man stepped to the case and unlocked it. “The mechanesis?” He reached for the little whirring machine.

“No, behind it, the thing that looks like a gaming die.”

The shopkeeper took it out. “An objet d’art, madam. Provenance unknown, I’m afraid. I believe the shop’s previous owner acquired it. It’s been here quite some time.”

Rey didn’t know what an “objay dart” was, but she tucked her hands behind her back and bent close. She still couldn’t tell what material it was made of.

Rey had ever wanted only a few things that weren’t functional—her kyber, when she found it, the doll she’d made as a child, the Rebel pilot’s helmet she played with as recently as a month ago, the spinebarrel blossoms she collected for her shelter.

But this—she _wanted_ this.

She also had only the credit chip Kylo had given her for clothes. It didn’t seem right to use it for something completely useless, just because she wanted it.

“Beautiful,” she breathed. She straightened and stepped back. It was like peeling away a piece of her own flesh.

She made herself look away, ignoring the object’s insistent pull. Her gaze landed randomly on a shelf nearby and was caught by something else. Something she’d seen before.

It was a box of dark wood that looked a little like the box in Maz’s castle she’d found her lightsaber in. But this box was much smaller, small enough to hold in her two hands. Slim, graceful cylinders stood in perforations in the box’s lid, and decorative cutouts pierced its sides.

The shopkeeper followed her gaze. “That is an Alderaanian calligraphy set. Very rare, with the destruction of Alderaan. Such things were in popular among Alderaanian aristocracy, before the Galactic Civil War.”

Rey stepped closer to see, once more suppressing the urge to touch.

The young man picked up the box and offered it. She hesitated a moment, wondering if he meant it, then took it. The moment it rested in her hands, heavier than it looked, she knew what she had to do.

“Is it for sale?”

Rey was used to barter, not purchase, but she’d watched the charges for the outfits she’d picked out in the clothing store. She guessed, from everything she’d seen in this town, that they were costly. The amount the man quoted was even higher. She pursed her lips, disappointed, and began to hand back the calligraphy set.

The man held up his hands in refusal and quoted a lower price.

This was a game Rey knew. They went back and forth, the shopkeeper looking ever gloomier. Rey touched the Force. It wouldn’t be right to go into his mind or influence him, but sensing his emotions seemed fair enough. She continued to haggle, sensing the shopkeeper’s calculation and increasing impatience.

“Allow me to offer this for your consideration,” he said at last. “Might you find the price satisfactory if I include the objet d’art you were admiring a few moments ago?”

Rey had been resolutely trying to ignore her desire for the little polyhedron. Again and again, it compelled her gaze anyway, like someone staring from across a room.

“Okay.” The agreement popped out before she could even think about it.

The satisfaction in the young man’s smile was genuine. “Excellent. I’ll wrap up your purchases directly.

The First Order credit chip Kylo had given her lighter by what had to be a substantial sum, she stepped back out into a street even busier than when she’d stepped in.

People of dizzying array of species strolled along the sidewalks, peering into shop windows, going in and out of doors. Fancy speeders hummed along the street, sliding in and out of long, dusky shadows. Rey stepped to the curb, stood on tiptoes and looked up and down the street, searching for a familiar tall figure in black. There were several to meet that description, but none were Kylo.

A speeder slowed, then pulled to the curb in front of her. Rey stepped back, expecting the driver to climb out.

“Hey, beautiful, looking for someone?”

Rey’s hand fell to her lightsaber the same moment her eyes locked on the speeder’s driver. He was dressed as expensively as his speeder suggested, maybe Kylo’s age or a few years older. She hadn’t expected to face the same rubbish in a place like this as she had on Jakku. She guessed she should have.

She gave the man a warning stare. “Not you.”

He leaned an elbow on his seatback and gave a crooked grin. “Are you sure? You don’t know me yet.”

“I don’t plan to, either.”

On Jakku, at this point they’d either get the hint and go off with a few jeers and insults, or she’d have to use her staff to discourage them. She considered non-lethal ways she could use her lightsaber and calculated how much trouble that might cause.

The driver popped open the speeder’s passenger-side door. “Come on, pretty lady. Have some mercy and come for a ride with me. I’m in love here.”

She opened her mouth to try one more time before she used her lightsaber on his fancy ride. Which would really be a shame. It was a beautiful piece of machinery.

“I think you have somewhere _else_ to be.” Kylo’s voice said behind her.

The strained edge to it raised the fine hairs on the back of her neck. She turned and saw murder in his eyes. Barely leashed violence radiated off him like heat waves.

The man sneered. “Who the kriff—”

“ _He’s_ my betrothed,” Rey broke in. “ _You_ are leaving.” She gave him a deadly-sweet smile.

The man snarled a familiar insult, made an obscene gesture, gunned his engine and whipped back out into the street. Rey turned back just in time to see Kylo raise a hand, fingers crooked. She caught his wrist and dragged it down.

“I had him handled,” she hissed at him.

His black gaze fell on her. “You don’t have to _handle_ them anymore.”

“Thanks, but you don’t get to kill people unless they’re threatening my life. I wouldn’t.”

“You tried to kill _me_ and _I_ didn’t threaten your life,” he shot back.

That stopped her. “That’s a good reason I shouldn’t carry a blaster,” she finally said. “If I’d had my staff, I’d’ve hit you and run away.”

“No, you wouldn’t,” he said, simple statement of fact. The strained edge was gone from his voice. He glared after the departed speeder and growled, “He deserved to be Force-choked after what he called you.”

She snorted. “I’ve been called worse.”

“I’ll kill _them_ , too.”

“You already did. A few of them were Unkar Plutt’s thugs.”

“ _Good_.”

He picked up her bags, circled her waist with the other arm and started back in the direction of the hotel. Only years’ worth of striding the dunes let her keep up with him. His face was still like a black sandstorm.

“Ben. Stop. I have my lightsaber. I’d’ve taken care of him.”

“You can’t do that here.”

She planted her feet, forcing him to stop and turn. “You were going to Force-choke him! Now you tell me I can’t use my weapon?”

A passing Twi’lek couple sent startled glances their way. Kylo gave them one of his stares. They ducked their heads and hurried on.

“If you use a weapon, the police will try to arrest you and put you in jail,” he explained. “It wouldn’t go well. And we’d have to leave.”

She put a fist on hip. “I’m not allowed to protect myself?” she said, outraged and disbelieving. “So what am I supposed to do?”

“This isn’t like Jakku. The worst you’ll find here are cons and pickpockets.” His face darkened again. “Or someone might grope you on a crowded street—”

“If anyone touches me,” she flared, “I _will_ put them on the ground.”

“ _I’ll_ kill them.”

She glared at him, exasperated and confused. “You just said you can’t do that!”

“No.” His jaw worked. “It’s been a long time. It’s different for me, too.” He took a long breath and his face cleared. “Remember I told you there are different ways to keep order? This is one. There are laws. People follow them. If they don’t, there are consequences.”

She was mildly insulted. “There are consequences on Jakku, too.”

“The offender is beaten or maimed? Killed, if they’re too much trouble?”

“Right.”

“Here, they’re taken away and locked up where they won’t harm anyone else. Made to pay a fine. Sent off-planet, if the offense is severe enough. Everyone else knows to follow the rules.” He considered a moment. “Mostly.”

She made a skeptical face. “I don’t see how it can work.”

“It’s how we’re taught.”

That ‘ _we_ ’ grabbed her attention. It was the second time he’d spoken of how he was raised.

“Don’t harm others,” he said. “Share. Don’t lie. Don’t steal. It becomes ingrained.” He was silent a moment then added, “Everyone still tries to get away with what they can.”

Some unplaceable emotion rippled over the bond.

“Everyone?” she said.

His lips tightened. “Not everyone. In a place like this, enough follow the rules that you can safely go unarmed.”

She heaved a frustrated sigh. “This is like what Laharna was for you, isn’t it?”

He huffed. “Exactly.”

They began walking again, but her guard was up now and it wasn’t as enjoyable as before.

“I don’t like it,” she finally said. “It makes me feel weak.”

Kylo bent his head close. “Rey, you are never weak. You always have the Force.”

She thought of what the Force could’ve done to the pushy twak in the speeder. She imagined ripping the repulsors out that speeder and leaving them scattered over the street. It cheered her up.

They walked in silence awhile, though she felt something bubbling in Kylo.

“You called me your betrothed,” he said.

Worry slithered through her middle. “Aren’t you?”

He looked at her, then away. “You told him we’re betrothed.”

Waking temper replaced the worry. “Is it a secret?”

“You _said_ it.”

She didn’t sense anger from him, but…amazement. Understanding began to dawn.

“Because you are,” she said. “We are.”

She couldn’t say exactly what changed in him. He didn’t stand any taller or move with any more confidence, but he somehow seemed to unfurl.

She remembered his whispered “ _Please”_ in the throne room, the desperate vulnerability she’d sensed on the _Precursor_ and realized—he hadn’t believed her when she said she’d said she’d marry him. Not really.

She slid her arm around his waist, leaned her head into him. Kylo started and his breath hitched, then his hand on her waist pulled her closer. Two older women came out of a shop just beside them. One smiled at them both. The other dimpled and winked at her.

The strangest feeling came over Rey, a little like how it felt when she slid down a rope in the darkness of a ship’s guts—a kind of giddy weightlessness, knowing the deck was down there somewhere, but it wasn’t yet in sight. The difference was, the bottom didn’t seem to be coming any time soon.

She was almost disappointed when they stepped out of the dreamy dusk and golden streetlight and into the hotel’s bright lobby. Kylo looked down at her, and the look made her heart turn over. The words she’d said to him while he slept rushed up: _I love you_.

She swallowed hard, swallowed them down, afraid that saying them aloud might break or damage something.

The ride on the hotel lift was strangely like the one on the _Supremacy_ : Kylo staring straight ahead, her bags in his hands, her jittering with nervous energy, waiting for him to wonder why one of them was so heavy. His mind must’ve been on other things, because he didn’t glance curiously at the heavy bag until they were in their rooms.

Rey whisked it out of his hands, set it down on the floor and pulled out the box containing the calligraphy set—iridescent blue plastoid with the shop’s name etched in gold on the lid: _Dreams of the Past_. The box was so beautiful by itself, she knew she’d find a way to repurpose it. Maybe she’d make it into a little bed for her old doll, the one Kylo had kept for her.

Straightening, she held the box out to him. “This is for you.”

He hesitated, then took and just held it, eyeing her warily.

She tried not to squirm with impatience. He must’ve felt it, because he finally lifted the lid. He looked inside for a long moment, then raised his gaze to hers with one of his intense, speaking looks.

“I thought you might like it,” she said. “I saw it in your…” She remembered exactly where she’d first seen it, and in what context: in his memory of his hut at Luke’s school…just as Luke ignited his lightsaber.

“Oh. Uh…” She stumbled to a stop.

He took the calligraphy set out of the box and set the box aside on a little table, waiting in silence for her to finish.

She steeled herself and said, “I saw it in your dream.” She hunched her shoulders, conscious of the enormity of her mistake.

When she’d seen the calligraphy set, she’d thought only that this was something that’d once had meaning to him. It hadn’t entered her mind that it would be a reminder of his time with Luke.

“I’m sorry,” she said into his continuing silence. “I didn’t think. I saw it, and I remembered, and… I’m sorry,” she blurted again and reached to take it from him.

He drew it back slightly, out of her grasp. “My mother learned calligraphy when she was young. She taught me.” He opened the lid, touched the contents. “I once enjoyed it. I found it calming.”

He looked up again. As usual, she couldn’t read everything his eyes tried to say. Through the bond, she sensed powerful emotion, something like pain but that wasn’t pain. She opened her mouth to apologize again.

“Don’t, Rey. Don’t be sorry. This is…” He faltered uncharacteristically. His lips trembled for an instant, then firmed. “No one has given me a gift in a very long time.”

“Well,” she said, embarrassed, “I didn’t have any salvage to barter and it was your credit chip that actually bought it. So I guess it doesn’t really count as a gift.”

“Yes,” he said firmly. “It is a gift.” He closed the lid and held the calligraphy set between his hands. “Thank you.”

Kylo’s emotions surged around her like the waves on Ahch-To, churning dark depths. She wanted to assure herself that he was all right. Instinct told her to step back, to give him a little space but stay close.

She bent, busying herself with her bags. “I’ll go put these away,” she said quietly.

She crossed to the dressing room, his gaze on her an almost tangible weight. He still held the calligraphy set in his hands.

* * *

Kylo sank into an upholstered chair and rested the calligraphy set on his knee. He took out a pen, the smooth old wood warm and delicate in his fingers. A tear tracked down his cheek. He didn’t wipe it away. It was proof of life.

Since the night Luke had destroyed Ben Solo, he felt like a corpse animated only by hate and rage and pain, blinded and numbed by darkness. Little by little, Rey was bringing him back to life. It was painful, like sensation rushing back into a blood-starved limb. But each wrench and pang promised that he wasn’t lost, wasn’t too far gone, wasn’t beyond hope.

He thought of the way she’d leaned her head into him as they walked along the street, the way she’d looked up at him as they waited for the hotel lift, words trembling almost visibly on her lips. He’d felt what words—the same she’d told him that night when she thought he slept.

How could she be so loving and generous when all she’d known was abandonment and hardship? He wanted to give her the galaxy…but she didn’t want it. He’d have to be content with giving her what she was willing to accept—his heart, his name, the rest of his life.


	41. Balance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Rey encounters the exotic phenomenon of a bubble bath.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A short chapter this week, but extra-fluffy for the holidays.
> 
> Merry Christmas, Happy Hanukkah, joyous Yule and very happy holidays to you!

Pain emanated from Kylo. If it had only been pain, Rey would’ve gone back out into the sitting room where she’d left him, instinct or no instinct. But there was a powerful undercurrent of—what? relief? warmth? gratitude?—that kept her where she was, absently hanging up clothes, only sensing him through the bond.

After a while, she felt him calm. A brush of gratitude and reassurance came through the bond. She relaxed. On the other side of the door, sounds of movement came: heavy footsteps, a click, as of something being set down on a hard surface.

It was the sound of him moving beyond that closed door that brought the strangeness it all home for her. Her here with him. (Did people share rooms when they were betrothed? He hadn’t said a word about a room of her own, so maybe that was expected.) These rooms—sitting room, dining room, dressing room—floors covered in plush carpet, walls painted in a stylized pattern of leaves and flowers and twining vines. She’d peeked through a door to find an enormous bedroom with an equally enormous bed, and through a far door inside, glimpsed an edge of mirror and the tiled floor of the ‘fresher—more space than she’d ever imagined two people could use. Shimmering upholstery covered the chairs. The glossy tables were of real wood inlaid with turquoise and agate—not a speck of plastoid in sight.

And the _clothes_ —she ran her fingers over the fabrics, her calluses catching on the threads. When she’d tried them on in the shop, the mirror hadn’t shown her a scavenger in fancy clothes. The girl in the mirror had gazed back at her with a scavenger’s defiance, but she was someone else, someone _fine_ , someone Rey didn’t know.

It had been all she could do not to peel out of the clothes and run out of the store.

With a quick glance at the door, she pulled out nightclothes—though they could hardly be called _clothing_ , since they revealed more than they covered. And the underthings! She hadn’t understood why what you wore _under_ your clothes was supposed to be pretty. Even now, her face went hot remembering the shop woman’s explanation. The woman been quite gentle and serious about it, but Rey had been able to sense her amusement and amazement.

The clothes all put away, she took the polyhedron out of the last bag and cupped it in her hands, like some small creature she’d caught. It was quite inert, but it warmed surprisingly quickly against her skin, much more quickly than she’d expect metal to—and certainly not glass.

She was just reaching out to it through the Force when the door chimed in the other room. She quickly nestled the polyhedron among the lacy, silky underthings and slid the drawer closed.

Kylo’s voice and that of another man came through the dressing room door. She touched her lightsaber and took a step toward it, ready to boil out if necessary, but the voices and the emotions she sensed were calm. After a few minutes, it was quiet again, whoever it was apparently gone away. She opened the door and peeked out.

* * *

Kylo turned to see Rey warily scanning the room through the partially opened door. “Come out,” he said. “You don’t have to hide.”

She came out into the room, still glancing around. “I didn’t know who it was.”

“It doesn’t matter who it is,” he said. “You still don’t have to hide.” He followed her gaze from the boxes on the floor to the garment bags hanging on a repulsor rack. “He was delivering my purchases.”

He marveled at how quickly she could go from being ready to defend herself with her lightsaber to hiding in a dressing room.

 _Fight or flight_ , he reminded himself. He’d have to watch and make sure she didn’t feel pushed into either while she was here. The results could be unfortunate.

He steered the rack past her into the dressing room and opened a closet. Unexpected pleasure washed over him as he hung his clothes with hers, his black contrasting with the delicate fabrics and soft colors of hers.

Kylo heard her footsteps move out of the sitting room. He cracked open the door that led from the dressing room to the bedroom and watched her. She crossed to the bed, circled it, smoothed a cautious hand over the quilted duvet. She sat down on the edge of the bed and bounced a little. Arms spread wide, she flopped back onto the pillows piled at its head, heaved a happy sigh and closed her eyes. Utter bliss came over the bond.

The most extravagant environment she’d been exposed to was a First Order star destroyer. No luxury there. He knew what the bunks on the _Millennium Falcon_ were like, and he’d slept in her hammock himself. He knew she’d never encountered such comfort in her life, pleased he was the one to provide it.

In a moment, she bounced up again and resumed her explorations. He watched until she disappeared through the bathroom door. Her footsteps tapped on the tiles and stopped.

He turned back to his clothes, then hesitated, a ripple in the Force tugging at his awareness. He reached out for it, sensing for _what_ and _where_.

Rey’s continued silence snagged his attention, dragged it away. Something about the quality of it, a certain suspicious curiosity, sent him after her.

Going to the bathroom door, he found her standing a meter or so from the tub.

She looked over her shoulder at him and pointed. “What’s _that?”_

He came to stand by her. He’d chosen the hotel and rooms with discretion in mind—superior, but not ostentatious. The floor was tile, not marble, the fixtures simple ceramic and brushed steel, the only gold in sight the flakes of foil in the tiles.

“It’s a bathtub,” he said.

It was, in fact, the room’s centerpiece—a huge sunken tub bordered with tiny glass tiles in shades of blue and green touched with shimmering gold.

She turned a bewildered look on him. “What?”

“You bathe in it.”

She looked at the tub and back at him. “How?”

“You fill it with water first.”

She was aghast. “You _fill_ it? With _water?_ But this is a desert! I saw when we landed!”

“That’s part of the show.” Kylo gestured around them. “Water. In the desert.”

An idea came to him. Heat flooded him instantly, centering at his groin. Ruthlessly, he controlled himself. He wouldn’t just attack her this time. He wanted this to be special.

“I’ll show you,” he said, his voice deeper than usual.

He crossed to the tub, crouched down at the edge and turned on the taps.

She watched, fascinated, as water cascaded in, as he sprinkled pastel crystals from a jar. The water foamed and swirled with colors.

She drifted closer, a curious wild thing. “What’s that?”

“Scented bath salts.”

She took the jar from him and turned it, studying it closely, then sniffed. “What are they for?”

That stopped him. Ben Solo had a vague idea about bubble baths. Kylo Ren didn’t have even that much. “They make the bath more relaxing.”

“It smells good.” Bending, she extended her hand into the water where it spilled from a trough-shaped faucet. “It _feels_ good.”

She gave him a sideways glance and he felt a flutter of silent laughter from her.

“It still seems wasteful. I think we should share,” she said very seriously.

Throttling his glee, he nodded just as seriously. “I’ll go after you.”

Her brows flicked together in irritation. _Got you_ , he thought smugly.

She made a sound somewhere between a snort and a snicker. “ _Together_ ,” she said. “ _With_ you.”

He shut off the tap then stood, waiting.

He tried to decide if she’d be shy about undressing, turning her back or escaping into the bedroom, or if she’d be boldly forthright about it as she often was.

It surprised him when she did neither.

She held his eyes then stepped close, her fingers gliding down his arms. Even through the padded fabric, her touch was electric. His breath stopped and every muscle tensed for a lunge.

He wasn’t going to attack her this time. He _wasn’t_. He set his jaw and forced his hands to remain at his sides.

She broke from his gaze to take his hand and pull off one glove, then the other. She went to work on his belt next, her slim fingers so close to where he wanted them that his stomach muscles quivered. It fell to the floor. Her fingers slowly made their way up the fasteners of his tunic, one after the other, her face showing the same concentration as when she’d built her lightsaber. She opened his tunic and hesitated, her eyes rising to his, questioning. Forcing his breathing to stay even, he met her gaze steadily. She reached up pushed it off his shoulders.

Her hands skimmed down his arms again, the friction of her calluses tingling against his bare skin. His breath quickened despite his best efforts, his chest heaving as she caught the hem of his undershirt and pulled it up.

She got it as far as his pecs and stopped, frowning, stymied by his height. “I might need help.”

The chance to finally _move_ had him ripping the shirt off over his head in an instant.

She laid a hand over his scar. Her brows crooked and her mouth tightened as she traced it upward to his face. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I wish—”

“I know. Me too.” He took her hand, kissed the palm.

She shook her head, withdrawing. He caught her in his arms before she could step back. When she drew breath to protest, he kissed her, forbidding guilt, forbidding regret, willing her to be here with him now. She softened in his arms again soon, her hands roving over his back and down to the waistband of his trousers.

“Boots,” he muttered against her lips.

Pulling back, he stumbled to a low bench against one wall, sat and tugged off his boots, dropping them with heavy thuds on the floor. She ran her hands along his shoulders and into his hair, her touch maddening. She hummed in appreciation, even more maddening.

He was fast losing the ability to think. He got his trousers undone, shucked them off and grabbed her by the waist.

“My turn,” he growled.

He wanted rip off her clothes the way he had in her shelter. Instead, he made himself linger over the task.

It was arousing in a different way—a new way, a way he’d never had any interest in with anyone else. Before Rey, sex had been only a physical release. Get in, get off, get out.

He seated her on the bench, half-knelt and took her foot, so small in his hand. He pulled off one boot, then the other, pleased at the way her breath caught as he slid his hand up the firm muscle of her calf.

He straightened on his knees, still taller than she was seated, took the hem of her shirt and gently lifted it over her head, as if opening the petals of a rare flower. As he undid her belt and trousers, he felt her trembling. He hesitated, but a touch at the bond told him it was arousal, not fear. He leaned forward, pressed a kiss to her collarbone. Brushing kisses up her neck to just under her jaw, he slipped his hands around behind her to undo her breastband. Her hands wandered back into his hair, her fingers threading through it in a sensation that made him close his eyes and groan with pleasure.

Rey took his face in her hands and kissed him—slow, sweet kisses that kept the fire in him banked. He stood, drawing her up with him. Her trousers fell down without his help, her slim hips giving them no purchase. He had to struggle to keep from tearing off her standard-issue briefs, so offensively practical, instead slowly pushing them down with shaking hands.

A growl rumbled deep in his throat as he took her in, all of her, from her winsome face and the dark hair wisping over freckled shoulders to her slender feet and every lovely thing in between. Faint color bloomed on her cheeks, but she stood with her chin up, defiant as ever. He didn’t allow himself to touch. He wouldn’t be able to restrain himself if he did.

Kylo took her hand. The gesture felt strangely formal. He had a flash of vision—Rey in a flowing dress the color of a misty twilight, him wearing a slate-grey coat, the same woods around them he’d seen in his vision on the _Precursor_. He caught his breath, and they were back in a hotel bathroom, both bare as he guided her to the steaming tub.

Her eyes flew wide and she gasped when she stepped into the water. He tightened his grip, ready to snatch her back out if it was too hot, but she closed her eyes and moaned, a long _ohhhh_ of complete bliss as she sank into the water.

He almost lost control then. _You’ll drown her_. The thought came as if from a great distance. _You can’t drown her_.

She sank down until the water was up to her shoulders, then looked up from the multicolored swirls of suds. “Well? Aren’t you getting in?”

She sat up and scooted forward to make room for him, foam clinging to her breasts.

 _Don’t drown her, don’t drown her, don’t drown her_ , he chanted silently as he lowered himself into the tub. The water rose to cover her breasts.

The hot water restored a little sanity, the salts leaching away the coiled urge to grab and pounce. Letting out a shuddering sigh, he pulled her back against him. _Then_ he let himself touch her.

The salts gave skin and water an intriguing texture, silky and slippery. He skimmed his hands lightly over her, feeling the faint crackle of energy between them. She shivered, her breath hitching. Closing his eyes, he explored at leisure, letting himself sink into touch and scent and taste, feeling with all the sensitivity of the Force.

It was like he’d never been with a woman before, every sensation new and vivid and overwhelming. After a startled twitch, he felt her unfurl herself into the Force and join him. The bond opened fully, a sharing of thought and feelings and sensation so deep and intense he didn’t know where he ended and she began.

He saw himself through her eyes. His size, so threatening before, was now indescribably alluring. The way his eyes spoke a language more compelling than any words, his darkness cloaking strength and sensitivity that took her breath…

He abruptly pulled back, crushed her to him and buried his face in her hair. “Rey—” His voice broke.

She twisted in his hold to touch his face, kiss his jaw. “Don’t be sad. Not now.”

He felt her tapping at the bond, asking him to join her again. Under the water, her other hand moved up his thigh, distracting him from the sudden, strange pain. He opened cautiously, and her brightness unwound him like fingers easing open a clenched fist.

He gave himself over to her, not submission but freedom, everything that tethered and weighted him falling away. His hands moved over her, massaging her strong, wiry muscles. She melted under his touch—such surrender and trust a wonder, a miracle.

He lifted and shifted her to settle her in his lap. Mouths, hands, bodies fitted together like broken pieces rejoined in perfect alignment. Her light leavened his darkness, his darkness softened her light.

Warm water surrounded them, swaying like a tide. Pleasure increased, each heightening the other’s, a wave that rose ever higher in the Force. It towered, crested, crashed, tumbling outward, carrying not destruction, but a rippling flood of peace and joy.

Kylo let his head fall back against the side of the tub. Rey’s head lay on his shoulder, the rest of her wrapped around him—her arms around his chest and neck, her thighs around his hips. Content with an armful of Rey, he closed his eyes and sighed.

In this place, at this moment, the Force hummed its own contentment, dark and light twining together, broken pieces made whole again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It occurred to me that this might look like the end of the story. Nope! Not the end. Rey and Kylo still have the rest of the galaxy to balance.


	42. A Night on the Town

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Rey gets her first look at Ben Organa, Prince of Alderaan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you're curious about what Ben's new outfit looks like, [here's my model](http://clara-gemm.tumblr.com/post/177968429654/those-new-clothes-of-yours-aint-helping-senator/)
> 
> One more fluffy chapter to end the year, then it's back to the business of bringing balance to the the galaxy.
> 
> Happy New Year! May 2019 be your best year ever.

The new clothes felt like whispers on her skin, softer than anything Rey had ever experienced. The silky underthings reminded her irresistibly of Kylo’s touch feathering over her in the bathtub. Heat flooded her, and she ruthlessly clamped down on the thought. Still, she found herself imagining his reaction when he finally saw them. A smile tugged at her lips despite her.

He appeared in the bedroom door and the smile froze on her face. All the air in the room abruptly vanished.

He still wore black, but…but… Oh!

His tunic was woven with a subtle pattern that shifted and changed with the light. A high-collared, deeply-cuffed coat flared from waist to calves, the padded shoulders making his already imposing silhouette even more impressive. The only color was a strip of red so dark it was almost black edging the insides of his cuffs and lapels.

When had he become handsome? Not the first time she’d seen his face, no, when he was still the terrifying creature who’d stalked and seized her. Then it had only been a shock. Not on Ahch-To, when he’d somehow gradually transformed from a monster to a man, one strangely unresentful of the slash and bruises she’d marked him with.

He was certainly handsome _now_ , the scar making his strong-featured face only more compelling. She found herself wanting to take that face in her hands, smooth her thumbs along the strong brow and cheekbones, kiss her way down the scar and _devour_ those full lips. If only she could move.

Kylo stood just as frozen as she was, his dark, dark gaze sweeping her from head to toe and back again. When he finally moved, it was to stalk toward her as he held her pinned with that gaze. It was uncannily like the woods on Takodana, but this time Rey wasn’t terrified—pleasant warmth curled through her. She wondered if that day, under his mask, he’d looked at her the way he did now.

The bond was open, and she caught a flash of herself through his eyes: dressed in a light coat in soft green that trailed to her knees over a cream-colored silk camisole; trousers that followed the line of her thighs to fall loose below the knees. She seemed to glow from within, the color of the coat igniting green fire in her eyes.

It was nothing like what she saw when she looked in the mirror.

He stopped in front of her, took her hands and turned her. She could feel his attention sweep over every centimeter of her, sensed his awe and admiration. Her skin prickling, she tried not to squirm with discomfort.

“No,” he said, touching her face with gloved fingertips. “You’re perfect.”

She wanted to argue, but he took her hand, drew her arm through his and led her to the door.

They walked down a carpeted, sconce-lit hall to another room, where Kylo collected two Nightfolk—and Kreet. With a happy squeak, Kreet leapt onto his shoulder and linked his little hands around Kylo’s neck.

Rey studied the two Nightfolk, trying to see them as individuals. One was bigger and taller, its face broader, the jaw heavier. She decided that one must be male. It—he?—looked at her and an image swam into her mind: a night sky, blazing with stars.

She blinked. “Is that your name?”

 _It is who I am, for those who seek me_ , he answered.

Not like the Teedos, then. But who knew? Maybe the Teedos just never bothered naming themselves to outsiders. When she glanced at the other Night-one, the image of a small fire reflecting in a still, black pool came.

Rey smiled. Her heart beat fast, though she wasn’t sure why. “Star and Flame. Can I call you that? That’s what I thought of when you showed me your names. I’m Rey.” They already knew her name, but it only seemed right after they’d given her theirs.

The image of a fiery supernova of light burst into her mind. It took her a moment to realize it was their name for her.

“Exactly,” Kylo said. Swelling pride came over the bond.

She slanted him a glance. “What?”

“You get embarrassed when I tell you.”

He turned and led off again, the Nightfolk gliding silently behind.

In the hired speeder, she let herself get lost in the sights and sounds and smells of the city around her: the old buildings with their ornate doors and windows, the ripple of music and tinkle of chimes, the smell of the sea and a thousand different perfumes. And so many people! There were always a lot of people on First Order ships, but somehow, they never seemed so many. Maybe because they were all so…well, _orderly_. Those around her now were every size and shape, laughing and chatting in a hundred different languages, some she knew, most she didn’t.

The speeder pulled to the curb. The Nightfolk—Star and Flame, Rey reminded herself—got out first. Kylo took her hand to help her out.

She bristled. She could get out of a speeder by herself. She started to pull her hand free then saw his eyes, a strange combination of appeasement and pride in them.

Okay, then this was something else people here did. Smoothing down her irritation, she gave a small sigh and let him tuck her arm through his again. That part was nice, she decided, being able to be close, to touch him, even when there were so many people around.

They walked through a door into a room filled with tables where people sat eating and drinking. Soft lights in glass globes flickered on the white tablecloths. A muted buzz of conversation filled the air, the savory smells of food, the tinkle of forks against plates. Crystal gleamed. Music ebbed and swelled gently in the background.

The last public dining place she’d visited was Maz’s. Maz’s was _nothing_ like this.

Rey froze, panic boiling up in her. There was some difficulty about the hassash again. She barely heard it.

Kylo pulled her aside, the Nightfolk moving to shield them.

“I can’t do this,” she muttered, very low. “I don’t know how.”

She was shaking. _Shaking_. It shamed her. It was only people eating, but she knew she’d make a fool of herself. She’d be an embarrassment to Kylo. She didn’t know why she’d let him convince her—

His large hand cupped her cheek, breaking in on her growing panic. He leaned his head close. “You can. I’ll let you into my mind. You’ll know what to do.”

She looked up at him, breathing hard. Through the bond, calm wrapped her.

“Come in,” he said. “You know how.”

She nodded once, jerkily, then reached out to him.

There was no resistance at all—she slipped into his mind as easily as if he’d opened his arms to her.

It was a little like the bond, except it wasn’t her body that understood, but her mind. Everything in front of her was suddenly familiar, though another part of her still saw it as completely foreign.

The maître d' (a word she hadn’t known before) led them to a table. Rey felt the attention of other diners on them, appraising and curious. _That_ was familiar, the kind of thing people did everywhere. Voices whispered at the edge of her awareness. She blinked, listening harder, and they came clear:

_My, what a striking couple!_

_Bodyguards! I wonder who they are?_

_What a pretty little thing, like a reed next to him!_

_If not for that scar, he’d look like a king._

_He looks like the type that’d knife you in a dark alley just for the fun of it._

Her eyes darted to Kylo at the last, but his face didn’t change, and she didn’t sense anything through the bond.

The maître d' seated them and offered menus. Kreet slid quietly from Kylo’s shoulder and tucked himself under his chair. Star and Flame sat at a small table nearby, as bodyguards would (Rey didn’t know that).

The whispers continued. She put her hands over her ears. They didn’t stop, and she realized— _she was hearing the thoughts of the people around them_.

Shocked, she looked to Kylo where he sat beside her. “Is this what it’s like for you all the time?”

The bond was growing stronger. Or maybe it was the way their minds touched—he understood what she meant.

“You learn to filter it out,” he said.

She just stared at him, appalled. He had other people’s thoughts constantly beating at him like a sandstorm? What would it be like, to hear everything no one dared say to your face?

She dropped her hand to his and squeezed.

He hitched a shoulder, a ghost of a shrug. “It’s useful, when someone wants to kill you.”

She thought of Takodana, of Starkiller Base and cringed. “Oh. Yeah.”

 _You still want to kill me_ , he’d told her on Starkiller, head cocked as he crouched in front of her, one gloved hand dangling over his knee. She’d wondered then how he’d known, since she was strapped to a chair couldn’t do much except glare at him. _Try_ to glare while pretending she wasn’t scared out of her mind.

“You had reason,” he said.

He was reading _her_ thoughts now.

“Kriff,” she muttered then clapped a hand over her mouth, glancing to see if anyone heard.

Kylo put a fist over his own mouth and hunched over his menu, hiding a laugh. She was torn between indignation and delight. She _loved_ it when he laughed—even if it was at her expense.

“Can you always—?” she began. _Can you always read my thoughts?_

“Not since Starkiller,” he said quietly. “Something balanced then.”

The bond had balanced them then. She let herself settle into it now, into his mind, letting his knowledge sift into her.

It was another kind of intimacy. She thought it should scare her. She wondered that it didn’t.

Dinner was an unending parade of delicacies. There was wine that sparked with glints of light and tasted of a musky sweetness that evaporated, leaving behind only warmth; fruit sliced to resemble flowers; rolls that looked like plump little animals with button limbs and eyes. The soup held a pattern of swirls that disappeared when a spoon was inserted. The waiter brought a low, cone-shaped grill and placed it in the center of the table, then added plates of rolled slices of meat arranged in a spiral and vegetables piled into multicolored pyramids.

Rey looked at the tongs resting crossways on her plate and knew exactly what to do: she picked up the meat and laid it on the grill. It sizzled and she caught her breath, her eyes going wide at the delicious smell. By her side, Kylo watched her, positively glowing with pleasure. She couldn’t help smiling at him.

By the time dessert came, a froth of sweetness that melted on the tongue that floated in a rich, dark, bittersweet syrup, Rey was full. She tried to remember if she’d ever been full. Never, she decided. Hunger was a predator that always stalked her, sometimes at a distance, more often with its teeth savaging her belly.

“Never again,” Kylo said. Her thoughts were still open to him. “Not with me.”

She ducked her head. She sensed how much her hunger disturbed him, noticed how closely he watched when she ate. It confused her.

“Because I don’t like it,” he said, again reading her thoughts. “You shouldn’t have had to live that way.”

“It’s not your fault that I did. It shouldn’t bother you.”

He just looked at her.

“Okay, it does,” she said. “But…why?”

“I told you why. On Jannessi.”

She caught a flash of herself in the barn, dirty bandages wrapping her hands, and remembered. “Because you care what happens to me.”

The realization rolled over her, overwhelming, like all this food after she’d been hungry for so long. She reached over, took his big hand and brought it to her cheek. His fingers curled into her hair, his thumb smoothing her cheek.

She still touched his mind. There, she sensed…she sensed…

It was the same thing she felt in herself when they’d stood waiting for the hotel lift, the same thing she felt when she snuggled into him while he slept that night.

Warmth.

Devotion.

 _Love_.

* * *

The casino was a roil of sights and sounds and minds—the genteel crowd of people of every species, laughter, cheers, the rattle and whirr and whistle of gaming machines, the murmur of so many thoughts and emotions it was like the heave and rush of the sea. It almost overwhelmed even Kylo.

He glanced at Rey where she walked beside him, her eyes darting everywhere. Her flight instinct had almost overcome her at the restaurant, but he sensed more excitement than alarm here.

Kreet rode on his shoulder again, the Nightfolk trailing behind them. Rey slipped her arm from Kylo’s, gravitating to one of the floating gaming machines. Her clever fingers roved over it with a scavenger’s interest.

She looked over at him, her eyes bright. “I need to see how this works.”

A mechanic’s interest, then. He gave her a handful of coins. She quickly figured out how the machine worked and fed in coins. The spinning reels delighted her. She fed in coin after coin, not seeming to care that she didn’t win. Kylo was wondering how he could use the Force to give her a win when the spinning symbols lined up, the machine began flashing and beeping and coins poured into the payout tray.

Rey jumped back. “What did I do?” she gasped, looking around in horror and then confusion when people nearby began to clap and cheer.

“You won,” Kylo said. He scooped coins from the tray and handed them to her. “Your winnings.”

Bewildered, she looked down at the coins in her hands. Kylo called a serving droid for a coin carrier. She clutched the rack to her chest and glanced around as if expecting someone to knock her down and take it from her. Of course she would. When people only turned back to their own gambling, she relaxed.

“They can convert that to a credit chip,” Kylo said

“No,” she said. “I like to carry it. For now.” She glanced up at him then away. “I might play with another machine.”

Had she ever had real money? It seemed she hadn’t. Only barter. Other people’s discards. _Portions_.

Kreet gave a soft whine of warning in his ear.

 _Right_ , Kylo thought. _Don’t think about it_. He’d start getting angry.

They wound their way deeper into the casino. At last they came to a hazard toss table. Kylo stood and watched the game over the heads of the players, waiting for a space to open.

With the Nightfolk standing behind them, uneasiness began to grow in the gamblers. A woman with gems woven into her elaborate hairdo made a small sound of dismay and left the table in a hurry. A Lannik male with gold and opal hoops in his drooping ears spun and stalked away with a grumble. Kylo smoothly guided Rey forward to the table.

Having Han Solo as a father meant he had more than passing familiarity with games of chance. Although his mother would’ve been infuriated to know just _how_ familiar he was.

He couldn’t remember how old he’d been when Han had brought him along to some gambling den, the place dim and reeking of whatever weed the players were smoking. Ben watched the game a while, interested and curious, until Han took him aside: “Hey kid, I’m runnin’ kinda low here. Think you can, y’know, help me out a little?”

It was cheating. Ben knew it was. But it was one time his father didn’t find his abilities unnerving.

Ben figured out that night how to make the dice fall the way he wanted.

His father had thumped him on the back and ruffled his hair afterwards. “What a kid!”

After a few proud, happy minutes, Han eyed him sideways and awkwardly stuffed some of the winnings in Ben’s pocket. “Don’t tell your mother, huh?”

Stiffening, Ben shoved the money back into his father’s hands and stalked off, leaving Han muttering in confusion behind him.

Rey touched his hand, bringing him back to the present. “Ky— Ben?”

Realizing he’d made a fist, he opened it and ran a reassuring hand down her back. “Make a bet.”

“I don’t know this game.”

“Put your coins there.” He pointed.

Rey leaned over the table and placed a small stack of coins on the red felt.

Kylo knew better than to arrange a win on the first toss. Or the second or third, for that matter.

Rey watched the contents of her coin rack dwindle until she was down to her last few. “Maybe I should—”

“Try one more time,” Kylo said.

On that toss, Rey won. She gave him a sharp look.

He returned it blandly. “Try again?”

She eyed him for a long moment, then slid a stack of coins onto the table. She won some and lost some, but Kylo made sure she won just enough tosses to increase her little hoard.

On the last toss, people whooped and clapped. The woman beside Rey squealed and gave her a sideways hug as the croupier slid an enormous stack of coins across the table to her. Rey only stared at them, frowning, so Kylo gathered up the coins and put them in her carrier.

She gave him a sweet smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “Ben?” she said, her fingers digging into his arm.

He let her tow him to a relatively quiet corner. The Nightfolk moved with them, their presence making sure it stayed quiet.

“You were using the Force back there!” she hissed.

“Yes.”

“That’s cheating!”

“Yes.”

“It’s not right!”

“Look around,” he said. “What do you see?”

She frowned at him, then dutifully looked. “A lot of rich people. Enough money floating around to feed every scavenger on Jakku for a year.”

“What else?”

“A beautiful building,” she said. “All the machines. Crystal lights. Windows with pictures in colored glass.”

“Where do you think the money for all that comes from?”

“From the rich people?”

“Exactly. The house always wins. I’m just evening up the odds.”

“Why does that sound like—?” She clamped her mouth shut, glancing quickly away.

He paused long enough to make sure he had a firm grip on his emotions. “Han Solo?”

She fidgeted. “Um…yeah.”

“I only intend to win enough to cover our costs. And attract some attention.”

Her eyes rose again, her gaze steady on his. “You won’t ruin anyone.”

“No one who doesn’t deserve ruining.”

She heaved a sigh.

“You’re the one who told me to think like a scavenger,” he said.

“I didn’t think you’d be quite this good at it.”

He waited for more objections. Arms folded, she eyed him as if trying to think of one.

“Why do you want to attract attention?” she said. “I thought that’s what we _didn’t_ want.”

He put a hand on her waist and steered her back out into the throngs of graceful people. The Nightfolk fell in behind once more.

“You don’t introduce yourself in a place like this,” he said. “You want people to seek you out. You want them curious, intrigued, eager to make your acquaintance.”

She thought about it a moment. “You want them to know Ben Organa is here. But why?”

“My name,” he said, “has weight. What I say will have weight.” He paused, thinking. “How do you want to be introduced?”

She gave him a startled glance. “Me?”

“You. ‘Rey of Jakku’ won’t have the desired effect.” He paused again. “I can introduce you as ‘Rey Organa.’ Or Lady Rey.”

“Ben!”

“What?”

“I told you, _not while we’re being hunted_.”

“It’s only a name,” he said innocently.

She just glared at him. His lips twitched despite him. They edged past the crowd around the uvide table. The wheel spun to much shouting and clapping.

“Rey Goazon,” she said suddenly. “Where I lived.”

“No,” Kylo said. _Rey Goazon_. It didn’t sound like her at all. It had no music to it.

“Who’s going to know it’s on Jakku? You said it wasn’t in your navicomputer.”

He maintained a disapproving silence.

“Rey Kanata?” she said.

“ _No_.” Not that. Absolutely not.

“It’s _my_ name we’re talking about. You know that, right? And Maz was kind to me. She even tried to give me the lightsaber.”

He shot her a look. _Did_ she? That was interesting. He should’ve taken more time when he was on Takodana.

“People will know that name,” he said. “No. That isn’t a connection we want to make.”

After a moment, she nodded. “Okay, you’re right.”

“Rey Junari?” he suggested. Now _that_ was musical. “It’s a seaside town on Chandrila. I grew up near there. Green and beautiful—you’d like it.”

He knew he had her sold at “green and beautiful.”

She cocked her head. “Rey Junari. That’s nice. I like it.”

He made a satisfied noise. If she wouldn’t use his name yet, she’d at least have something else of his.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hate to say it, but I've almost caught up with myself. I will try to continue posting weekly on Saturdays, but I might have to scale back to every other week or so.
> 
> Thank you so much for reading my story! I treasure every one of your comments and kudos, bookmarks and subscriptions. I feel like I'm in such good company on my writer's journey.


	43. Games

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Ben Organa, Prince of Alderaan, makes his debut, and the plot against Hux begins to bear fruit.

Zinbiddle was not an easy game to cheat at. Not unless you could hear thoughts. Then cheating was ridiculously easy.

Kylo had been playing a while. The table had been full at the beginning, but he’d been raising the stakes and winning enough hands to drive off the other players. Now it was down to just him and another man, a broad fellow with stone-grey eyes and a belligerent scowl who was determined to win, no matter the cost.

The man’s name was Belu Malnik. He was nobody, really, just the wastrel son of an upstart family who’d made their money peddling high-risk investments that tended to implode before ever paying a single credit. If anyone deserved to be ruined, it was this man. Kylo was tempted, if only for his attitude. Only one thing was saving him—he was a means to an end.

Rey sat behind him, Kreet nestled under her hair. The Nightfolk stood behind her. Kylo had expected her to get bored and wander off, but he could feel her attention on the game. He suspected she’d figured it out and was playing hands in her head. Put her at the table, and he also suspected she’d hold her own—even without listening to thoughts.

For the last several hands, Kylo made sure he lost. He concentrated on Malnik’s smug satisfaction so he could display the proper disgust and agitation. When the time was right, he started betting big.

Kylo finally pushed a large pile of gold coins to the center of the table. “Face.”

Malnik spread his cards on the table and sat back, smirking. “Ion Barrage.”

Kylo studied his cards. With a sigh, he put them down, watching the other man. “Missile Strike.”

Malnik cursed extravagantly.

“A lady is present,” Kylo said with an edge.

He sensed Rey’s amusement—no doubt she’d heard far worse. Malnik kept cursing, but now under his breath.

Nodding at the dealer, Kylo drew two fingers across the table, requesting that his winnings be gathered up.

“Wait, no.” Malnik growled. “You can’t quit now.”

Kylo stood. “I can, and I am. Some of us don’t have credits to waste.” Turning to Rey, he held out his hand.

Malnik turned conciliatory. “Of course not, of course not. But you seem to enjoy the play. I’m a member of a gentlemen’s club. Perhaps you’d care to join us for a private game or two?”

 _Ah, yes_. Kylo just cocked his head to indicate his interest.

“You’ll need an introduction,” Malnik said. “If I can ask your name?”

“Ben Organa.”

Malnik’s eyes widened, then narrowed. “Any relation to the Senator?”

“My mother,” Kylo said, neglecting to include verb tense.

Malnik cursed again. “No wonder you have bodyguards, after what happened to Hosnian Prime.”

Kylo stared at the man until he began to fidget.

“Erm, yes,” Malnik said. “Let me talk to some friends. I’ll find you.”

Kylo didn’t bother answering, just tucked Rey’s hand into the crook of his elbow and swept out, the Nightfolk in tow once more.

She was uncharacteristically quiet, sneaking glances at him.

“What?” he said.

“You’re…different,” she said.

He blinked. He was. He felt it. It had been so many years…

 _You’re a prince, Ben. You need to act like one_. How many times had his mother told him that? And it had all come back. He hadn’t even needed to think about it.

“A lot of practice,” he said darkly.

She was quiet a moment more, but he sensed more thoughtfulness than disturbance. “I forget. About the _prince_ thing.”

“Me too.” He paused, then added, “I try to.”

“Is it that bad?” she asked, disbelieving.

He thought about it. “Not all of it. The expectations were hard. You’ll see.”

“I will?” she squeaked.

He only gave her a look.

She drooped. “I guess I will.”

He tucked her arm closer. “I’ll help you.”

They moved past a towering, fantastically curved and coiled track that flashed colors as a ball whizzed along it, then dropped through a hole into a cage. The people around it shouted and waved various shaped appendages in the air.

When the shouting fell behind them, Rey said, “I thought you were… _arranging_ things in there.”

“I was.”

She eyed him. “Then why were you losing so much?”

“To make him confident. To make him interested.”

He guided them to one of the casino’s cafes, scanning the thoughts of the diners. He’d done research while they were still on the _Relentless_ , but that had its limitations. He’d learned long ago that information on the ground was more valuable.

Rey watched him, curious, knowing he was up to something but only waiting to see what it was. At last, he caught a snatch of what he was listening for. Taking Rey’s elbow, he moved through the tables, seated them both at an empty one near his target: a middle-aged man with a huge tandgor gem ring. The stone glowed like a baleful red eye.

A waiter brought menus and left again. The Nightfolk settled nearby.

He glanced at them. _You’ll feel fear soon. Take advantage of it_.

The one Rey called Star showed his teeth in a grin. _As you say, brother. This is good place for Nightfolk_.

Kylo nodded, reached over and took Rey’s hand. “Are you enjoying yourself, sweetheart?”

Rey’s eyes flashed up to his, startled. “Yes,” she said warily.

“I wanted to wait to tell you, but I’m afraid we’ll have to leave sooner than we planned.”

She lowered her menu. “Why?”

“That call I had earlier? I’ve gotten more news. It isn’t good. I’ve ordered the broker to sell our investments in Kuat-Entralla and Sienar-Jaemus, whatever the price. When the news gets out, the companies won’t be worth a plastoid nickel.”

At the table next to them, the man with the ring jerked his head up.

Rey saw it—her eyes darted to him, then back to Kylo. “Oh, no!” she breathed with convincing horror, clutching Kylo’s hand. “What happened?”

He glanced around as if checking for eavesdroppers. The man quickly returned his gaze to his meal. Kylo could still sense his attention on them.

Kylo leaned closer to Rey and lowered his voice. But not too much. “The First Order has suffered some disastrous losses—a Mega Star Dreadnought. A Siege Dreadnought. I don’t know how many star destroyers. There’s a rumor that there was another, even larger loss. I haven’t been able to discover what it was.”

“Are you sure, Ben?” Rey whispered.

Oh, she played her part perfectly! But then he’d seen her at work at Larharna. He should’ve known she would.

“Absolutely,” he said.

She frowned. “But…shouldn’t that be a good thing? They’ll need to replace all those ships. Lots and lots of business for those companies.”

 _And this_ , Kylo thought, _is where her knowledge of ships is invaluable_. She even knew who the manufacturers were.

“That’s assuming the First Order has the credits to replace the ships,” Kylo said. “After losses like that, I’m not confident they will. If they don’t…” He made a cutting gesture. “I only hope we can get ahead of the news before everything comes crashing down.”

He sensed the man’s agitation, the Nightfolk’s influence increasing it to real fear. The man’s thoughts raced: _Who is he? How did he hear this? Is it true? It can’t be true…but what if it is?_

The man abruptly pushed his plate away and threw down his napkin, signaling a waiter. Another moment and he’d paid his check and stood. His gaze landed on Kylo as he hurried out, burning laser-hot as if committing his features to memory. Kylo pretended not to notice. He could sense Rey discreetly tracking the man all the way out of the café. His respect for her scavenger’s skills increased.

The waiter came, took their orders and left again.

Rey glanced around and leaned close. “What was that?”

“That man who just left?” Kylo said. “He’s a Sienar-Jaemus executive. I don’t know the First Order’s finances, but the build-up happened relatively quickly. I suspect much of it was financed on credit.”

Rey’s experience might only be with barter, but she put the pieces together quickly enough. “If the First Order already owes them, and now they’re going to need to build more…they’ll owe even more.” Her eyes narrowed. “Unkar Plutt did that to traders sometimes. Kept buying stuff on credit, promising to pay soon, then when the trader finally got fed up and came to collect, Unkar would have his thugs show their blasters and ask the trader what they were going to do about it.”

“Exactly,” Kylo said.

Their orders came, a cup of rich, flavored caf for Kylo, a fruit dessert for Rey. She seemed to have a sweet tooth.

She ate with less enthusiasm than usual. He would’ve put it down to politeness in public or still being full after dinner, but he sensed her disturbance.

“Ben,” she finally said quietly. “Why did you call me that?”

Something in her voice made him put down his caf. “Call you what?”

Her mouth tightened. She picked at her food without eating it. “’ _Sweetheart_ ,’” she finally said, her voice heavy with distaste.

He went cold. He had to swallow hard before he could find his voice. “Why not?”

Her eyes flicked to his then down again. “It isn’t nice.”

Kylo just stared at her, nonplussed.

“It’s what men call women when…when they want to _use_ them,” she muttered.

Horror and disgust struck him, a punch to the gut. “ _No_.”

She looked up now, surprised at his tone.

He took her hand, held it tight. “It’s what a man calls a woman he cares about.”

She looked doubtful.

“Any man who called you that before—” He had to concentrate on not crushing her hand.

“I know. You’ll kill them,” she finished for him.

“Not because they cared about you,” he said, struggling to keep that strained, mad edge out of his voice. “Because they didn’t. I do, Rey.”

Her gaze flitted away again. “Me too,” she said so quietly it was hard to hear.

His heart soared, all aggression suddenly gone. Finally! She said it aloud. She was _able_ to say it aloud.

He brought her hand to his lips and kissed it. “I won’t call you that if you don’t like it.”

“It’s okay,” she said. “It just felt…strange. I was surprised. I couldn’t believe you meant it that way.”

“Never,” he said. “And I _will_ kill anyone who meant it the way you said.”

She eyed him with some exasperation. “A good Force-choke to make your point should be enough.”

He just grunted and took a sip of his caf.

She went back to her fruit tart with more interest than before. “What happens now?”

“Now,” he said, “we wait for the rumor mill to grind.”

_* * *_

Mun Deek, head of the Pyke Syndicate, surveyed the spice production facilities. Slaves moved across the barren, dusty terrain. Toxic water in lurid hues of green and orange pooled between towering piles of rusty tailings. Carts of raw spice trundled out of the mines where the slaves loaded the spice ore into boxes ready to be shipped to the refining plant. Everything was running perfectly, a well-oiled machine.

Things were so much easier now that the First Order was in control. No New Republic to intercept slave ships and disrupt distribution rings. No more losses to absorb—just pure profit. A win-win for the Syndicate and the First Order that shared in the revenue. He nodded in satisfaction, his elongated head bobbing gently.

An underling stepped quietly to his side. “Sir, a First Order ship has just entered orbit.”

Deek turned, his magenta eyes narrowing. “Have they contacted us?”

“Yes, sir,” the underling said, ducking her large head. “They’ve made a request to inspect the slaves. It seems an officer’s son was taken accidentally in a recent raid. They hope to find him.”

Deek considered, then decided it would be a gesture of goodwill—and simple common sense. The First Order was a reliable partner, making sure nothing interfered with the cartels. There was no advantage to insulting them.

“Very well. Drive the slaves to the barracks. We’ll meet the First Order shuttle there when it lands.”

Soon several troop carriers landed and stormtroopers began to march out. Despite the presence of his own guards, Deek grew uneasy. But the trooper commander approached him courteously enough.

“Sir,” she said. “Captain Arkady asked me to thank you for your cooperation and express his apologies for the disruption. He sent us to ensure the slave inspection remains orderly and without incident. We’ll be finished before you know it.”

Deek watched squadron after squadron of identical white-armored figures cordon off the slave compound. “I hope you realize we’ve had to completely shut down production for this.”

“I understand, sir. No need to worry about it. We’ll take care of everything.”

Deek had only dealt with First Order emissaries in the past. It was a surprise to find their military so accommodating. Orders from on high, it seemed. He preened a little, gratified.

The slaves trudged in ragged lines, little clouds of dust puffing from under their feet. Those not too exhausted or beaten down eyed the ranks of stormtroopers with fear. The blasters displayed promised that anyone who tried to run wouldn’t get far.

The stormtrooper commander waited at attention until the last of the slaves shuffled to the center of the compound.

“Is this all, sir?” she asked.

Deek looked to the overseer, who nodded. “Yes, all. You do know this isn’t something we do for just anyone.”

“I do, sir, and we’re grateful.” The commander raised her arm and spoke into a comm. “Ready here.”

The ranks of stormtroopers closed around the milling slaves, raising white plastoid armor shields.

Warning prickled up Deek’s spine. “What—”

The green bolts of ion cannonfire streaked out of the sky toward the spice mine. The concussion came an instant later, the explosion deafening. Superheated air blasted outward, tearing the breath from his mouth. The ground rocked under him. The stormtroopers staggered but maintained their formation.

Deek staggered too, fumbled for his blaster. “The mine!” he shouted, the roar of the blast and collapsing tunnels swallowing his voice. “What have you done? _What have you done?”_

The stormtrooper commander raised her blaster. The last thing Mun Deek saw was the red flash as she fired point-blank at him.

_* * *_

For once, the _Raptor’s_ huge, echoing hangar was quiet, the only motion the shuffling of the Pyke slaves, the only sound their coughs and snuffles. Captain Arkady stood in front of them—Wookies so thin their bones showed through their matted fur, filthy human men, women and children, a scattering of other species. Stormtroopers surrounded them, blasters at ready. An unnecessary precaution, he thought.

A more ragged, pitiful group he’d never seen. He burned with shame and anger to think the First Order not only turned a blind eye to such outrage, they enabled it.

Arkady clasped his hands behind his back and raised his voice to be heard. “The First Order has liberated you from slavery to the Pykes. We’ve destroyed the spice mines on Oba Diah and have eliminated the Pyke leadership. Slavery and drug trafficking are the antithesis of what the First Order stands for, and we will not tolerate it.”

Most of the slaves stood passive, slouched, heads down, too broken to listen or care. The more alert ones glanced at one another and muttered.

“Those of you who need treatment will be taken to our medcenter,” Arkady continued. _Most, if not all of them_ , he thought. “Afterwards, you will be debriefed. You will be repatriated to your home planets. We ask that you tell your people what the First Order has done here.”

That had been Vach’s idea—lead by example. Show the galaxy what the First Order should stand for. Force Hux to show what he stood for—brutal tyranny, or law and order.

Arkady stood a moment, waiting for his words to sink in, then turned on his heel to leave. Behind him, a weak, wavering cheer went up.

It slowly resolved into a broken chant: “First Order! First Order! First Order!”

His officers in step behind him, Arkady smiled as he entered the lift.

* * *

In a dim, windowless room in Kuat’s orbital ring, a young man with greasy locks of hair falling over his face slouched on a high stool and recited the raw, sensual lines of ecstasy poetry. From the booths surrounding him, moans and cries punctuated his words. Pungent smoke shifted and swirled through the air. Deep blue and red spotlights tracked across the booths, showing indistinct glimpses of sexual activities. The use of glitterstim throughout the room enhanced the experience, each participant sharing in the pleasures of the others.

The surrounding pursuits made sure that no one was paying attention to the dark-skinned man sitting in one of the booths with a beautiful woman.

With her mocha skin, brilliant green eyes and cloud of silvery-white hair threaded with glittering crystals, you’d be forgiven for thinking her a model or holo-star or the trophy wife of a very, very rich man, out slumming for the night, perhaps meeting an illicit lover.

Instead, she was one of the best slicers in the galaxy. She called herself Shadowmoon. No one knew her real name. No one would ever know it. The contact assurances of the man she met with now were high-end, or she’d never have agreed to meet him.

He bent his head close to hers, to all appearances just another couple participating in the ecstasy. Under the table, he slid a data chip into her hand. “This is a list of syndicate accounts funneling money to the First Order.”

Shadowmoon fingered the chip then slid it back, having already uploaded the data into her nano-enhanced brain through contacts in her fingertips. “This is big fish, sweetie. What’s in it for me?”

“Commission,” he said. “You get six percent of all the funds you reroute.”

“Twelve,” Shadowmoon countered. “The syndicates don’t like players in their sandbox.”

“Eight. I was told you’re the best. Afraid they’ll track you down?”

“Ten and an upfront fee. I’m realistic. The syndicates employ slicers, too. Slicer on slicer can get messy. At my level, we all know each other by reputation.”

“Deal. The syndicates won’t care. They made the payment. Where it goes is someone else’s business.”

“Is it?”

“It is this time,” he said cryptically.

Shadowmoon caressed his face, dipped her head to his ear. “What’s the reroute?” she whispered.

He slid an arm around her and another datachip into her fingers. “Here are the accounts. Make the deposits small and for random amounts. Make sure they’re thoroughly clean.”

 She sniffed. “As if they wouldn’t be.” Shaking her head, she uploaded the new data. “The First Order and the syndicates. You like to live dangerously. You’re named right, Dare.”

“I know it,” he said with a chuckle. “It’s a name I intend to keep a long time.” He caught her earlobe briefly in his teeth, then sat back and stood. “We won’t meet again. Funds in those accounts will tell me you’ve been successful. And Shadowmoon? I know what the syndicates are paying. I’ll know how much you skim, so don’t get greedy.”

She raised a pale brow and gave him a teasing smile. “Will you come back if I do?”

Dare smiled gently at her. “Someone will come, but it won’t be me. So be good.”

Straightening his jacket, he wove through the booths and the smoke and the red and blue spotlights, just as anonymous as if he still wore a stormtrooper’s white helmet.

* * *

If Arkady was the face of the new First Order, Vach was the knife in the dark, the hunter stalking the hyperspace lanes for pirates and slavers.

He slowly paced the _Relentless’_ bridge with his second in command—a tall, austere-looking man who’d come of age just after the fall of the Empire. He’d seen firsthand the results of hubris and lack of guiding principle.

Around them, the quiet efficiency of the bridge crew carried on, the blue streaks of hyperspace rippling past the viewports.

They’d taken three pirates already, annihilating the ships and crews, then boarding squadrons of stormtroopers on the victims’ ships and eliminating any pirates who’d already forced or tricked their way aboard.

Vach sniffed. Simple. Easy. Today’s target would be a bit more challenging. Decoded messages indicated the syndicates were catching on to the fact that they were being hunted. Though it meant that they were now prepared to defend their ships, it also meant that they were stretched thin, not knowing which ships were targets and which weren’t. Vach meant it to stay that way.

“Sir,” the sensor officer said from the pit. “Receiving data from the probe. The target has dropped out of hyperspace.”

Vach clasped his hands behind him. “Excellent. TIE squadrons One through Five, prepare for launch. Shoot to incapacitate, not destroy. Fighters are fair game.”

The communications officer gave a sharp nod. “Yes, sir.”

“Ready weapons. Exit hyperspace,” Vach ordered.

The streaks beyond the viewport condensed and collapsed into the points of stars. Against the starfield, a transport’s sublight engines glowed blue as the ship flew toward Thabeska. Bright dots of CS fighters surrounded it like a swarm of angry insects.

“Open a channel,” Vach ordered, then turned to face the holo-cam. “Fardi ship. You will power down engines and weapons and prepare to be boarded.”

“They’re powering up hyperdrive,” the sensor officer said.

“How predictable,” Vach said. “Let them go. This might get interesting yet.”

“Engaging hyperdrive tracking, sir,” the sensor officer said.

Beyond the viewport, the transport and its fighters stretched against space and vanished. With the slightest shudder of inertial dampers, the _Relentless_ jumped to hyperspace an instant later.

Vach plotted out moves. The syndicates couldn’t guess where they would strike, but if they had knowledge of First Order hyperdrive tracking capability, they could arrange a response to the strike: wait for it, then lure the attacker into a trap.

Vach calculated the syndicates might have that knowledge.

The sensor officer’s voice came from the pit: “Tracking indicates they’ll exit lightspeed in the Houche system.”

“All TIE squadrons to launch when we exit lightspeed,” Vach said.

The _Relentless_ dropped out of hyperspace. An armada of armed transports, modified freighters and even a frigate or two faced them.

The bridge suddenly boiled with voices and activity. The deck thrummed as weapons and shields powered up. The sensor officer barked out ship and armament stats. The communications officer relayed battle orders.

TIEs streamed out. Laser and missile fire streaked green against the starfield. Exploding fighters popped like fireworks against the black.

Vach smiled, a look no sane man wanted to see on his face. “It seems we were expected.” He brought up a battle schematic and paced around it, evaluating. His second in command followed.

“We’ll play with them a little,” Vach said. “Give them a chance to show their hand. Let’s see if they have anything worth worrying about.”

“The slaver, sir?” his second asked.

“The original plan remains—save it if we can. Evacuate the slaves. Confiscate anything of value onboard.”

“And afterwards?” the man said.

The syndicate ships were moving in all directions. They would, Vach calculated, attempt to englobe the _Relentless_. With a sweep of his fingers across the battle schematic, Vach ordered six squadrons of TIEs to head off one of the frigates. Touching the image of a freighter, he ordered cannon fire. The freighter’s shields crumpled and its engines blew out in a blue-white burst of igniting coaxium.

 “Take out life support and let it drift. If the crew are rescued in time, they’ll spread the news. If not…” Vach touched the battle schematic. The _Relentless’_ laser fire scythed through a swarm of enemy fighters. “The debris we leave behind will.”


	44. Sabotage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Ben Organa's whisper campaign begins.

_Hux might call it an audience chamber_ , Magarn Ren thought, _but it’s a throne room_.

There was the throne, a massive chair on a dais with the First Order emblem in black and glowing red enamel rising above the back like a sun. There were the First Order banners repeating the same emblem against the wall behind. There were the palace guards in their gleaming gold armor arrayed behind the throne. And there, of course, on the throne was Hux himself, as pasty and sour as always.

“What,” Hux said, “is the point of your supposed sorcery? I thought your kind could sense one another.”

Magarn stood in front of the throne with his head bowed. He’d bent a knee to Snoke. This redheaded pinwizzle— _no_. Absolutely not. He took a satisfying moment to fantasize about jerking Hux from his throne with the Force, throwing him face-down to the floor and slashing his lightsaber through him.

It remained only fantasy. Having the resources of the First Order behind him and Embern was more valuable at the moment than having that power arrayed _against_ them.

Magarn wondered, not for the first time, exactly how Hux had gotten the upper hand over Kylo. Perhaps it was time they found out.

He felt Embern’s attention on him, waiting for him to answer the Supreme Leader.

Hux already held the Force in contempt. Magarn had no desire to explain anything to him.

“Kylo Ren is the strongest of us all,” he said. “Stronger even than Snoke. As you saw, Supreme Leader.”

Hux eyed him as if searching for disrespect or mockery. “Useless,” he finally sneered, flicking imaginary dust from his trouser leg. “I should’ve known. Did you find anything at all useful to me?”

Once more, Magarn held his temper in check. “We discovered that the other Knights of Ren had confronted him. He was badly wounded in the fight. Judging from the blood, it must’ve nearly killed him.”

Hux leaned forward, eager. “And the others? Where are they?”

He and Embern had discussed how much to tell—and how much to conceal. They’d both decided there was no advantage in giving Hux everything.

“Dead,” Magarn said, watching Hux closely. “All four of them. We found their bodies.”

“Three,” Embern corrected. “And a crater.”

Hux drew back again. Alarm and disquiet radiated off him in waves. _Oh, yes, dear Leader_ , Magarn thought. _Kylo is a force to be reckoned with_. The man should’ve realized that after what happened to Snoke.

“Afterwards?” Hux said.

“He managed to make it to Jannessi. We don’t know how. We found signs of the fight there. The town that sheltered him was struck hard. I doubt the natives even realized why until the First Order strike team took him.”

Hux sat up straight on his throne, everything below his waist flaccid and still. “ _Took_ him. They were supposed to have eliminated him!”

Magarn didn’t sense fury and outrage—he sensed fear. He could see Hux’s thoughts racing.

From somewhere outside the throne room, anger and agitation came through the Force. The sound of shouts and boots on the metal deck came next. Magarn and Embern spun as one, hands raised and reaching for the Force, their lightsabers igniting with a hissing hum of plasma. Hux’s guards clattered forward, weapons ready and pointed at the doors.

The doors slammed open and the shouts and sounds of a scuffle rang clearly in the room.

“You cannot—!” a woman’s high, furious, frightened voice cried. “You have no right! You must be announced! Stop, there will be bloodshed—!” The woman’s voice squeaked into silence.

Trapped by his useless legs on his throne, Hux began screaming orders.

His guards boiled past Magarn and Embern. The Knights moved to opposite sides of the room. Magarn would put on a show of defending the Supreme Leader, but he had no intention of being caught in the crossfire.

“You want to announce?” said a rough male voice. “Announce!”

A man in black armor shoved Hux’s chamberlain in. The tall woman’s smooth grace was in tatters, her ivory hair torn loose from its previously elegant coil. The armored man held an enormous blaster to her head. She whimpered in fear.

Blasters whined as Hux’s guards primed for the order to fire.

The man jabbed his blaster at her temple. “Announce, I said!”

“Y-y-your e-excellency,” the woman stammered with a quickly arrested attempt at a bow to Hux. “Onyx B-b-blanch of the Black S-s-sun syndicate.”

Another man, short and broad with an oversized nose and an undersized chin, stepped in. More black-armored guards flanked him.

Hux held up a hand. “Stand down,” he ordered his guards. “I’ll see him.”

Hux’s gold-armored guards raised their weapons and stepped back, no longer threatening but still ready.

The armored man threw the woman to the floor. “You did your job. Now get out.”

The chamberlain scrambled to her feet and scuttled out.

Magarn glanced at Embern. Both extinguished their lightsabers.

“What is the meaning of this?” Hux demanded of the intruder.

The man paced back and forth in front of the throne, never taking his eyes off Hux. “Maybe I should ask you the same thing.”

“ _Maybe_ ,” Hux snapped, “you should state your business. You may have gotten in here, but only my word will get you out.”

Blanch’s fists clenched and unclenched. Magarn sensed his fury, the unaccustomed effort to contain it. “First you attack us. Now you pretend ignorance? You might have the ships and weapons, but don’t think you’re invulnerable.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, I assure you,” Hux said coolly, masterfully hiding the beginnings of alarm that rippled through the Force.

“No? Then you’ve lost control of your organization, _Supreme Leader_ ,” Blanch sneered, turning the title into a mockery. “Because your people are doing a kriffing good job of killing mine.”

Magarn knew the First Order dealt with the syndicates. He hadn’t realized they were quite this cozy.

Hux pushed himself forward. “ _What?”_

“You thought we wouldn’t figure it out?” Blanch gave a harsh laugh. “You were slick about it, I’ll give you that. Transport ships just…” He snapped his fingers. “Gone. Nothing left but debris. Oba Diah’s entire spice production was wiped out along with most of the Pyke organization. We finally wised up and set bait. And what bit?” He gave Hux a death glare. “ _A First Order star destroyer_.”

It seemed impossible, but Hux went even paler than usual. “No,” he breathed. “ _No_.”

It wasn’t fear Magarn felt from the man now. It was _terror_. From behind his mask, he exchanged a look with Embern. They couldn’t read each other’s thoughts, but he knew they were both thinking the same thing: _Kylo_.

“It wasn’t _me_ ,” Hux said. “It wasn’t by _my_ orders,”

“I don’t care,” Blanch said. “It was your ship. That makes it your problem. Fix it, or you’ll have much bigger problems very soon.”

The Black Sun boss jerked his chin at his guards and turned to leave.

“How dare you!” Hux screeched, his gloved hands knotted on the arms of his throne. “How dare you threaten the Supreme Leader of the First Order!”

“I’m not threatening you, _Supreme Leader_ ,” Blanch said. “I’m the one giving you a chance. The other syndicate bosses wanted to just kill you.”

He stomped out, his men around him.

Hux fell back in his seat, breathing hard. He ran a hand over his hair. “Kylo Ren. He’s the one doing this.” He snapped forward again, raking Magarn and Embern with a glittering gaze. “Find him,” he snarled. “Find him or don’t bother coming back. You have no use to me otherwise.”

Magarn bowed his head again. “Supreme Leader,” he murmured. Embern echoed him.

They both turned in whirl of black cloaks and swept out.

When they were alone in a corridor, Embern spoke. “We need to look at the security feeds,” he said. “I want to know what happened when Kylo escaped.”

“Yes,” Magarn said. “If he’s managed to start building a power base out there…”

“What made him run to begin with?” Embern finished.

They walked in silence a few steps.

“The girl,” Magarn muttered. “It’s something to do with that Jedi girl. She shows up, and everything changes. But why? And who is she?”

“That’s why I want a look at those security feeds.”

A group of officers came toward them along the corridor, then past, stealing sidelong glances at the two Knights.

Embern lowered his voice. “What that Black Sun boss talked about— That’s not Kylo on one of his rampages. That’s Kylo with a _purpose_. And Kylo with a purpose might turn the whole galaxy upside down.”

* * *

It was in between races. No fathiers ran, no announcer’s voice boomed over the speakers, no excitable spectators screamed. A grooming rig puttered along the track, smoothing the torn and churned earth, the only motion under the track’s bright lights.

Rey watched it, chin in hand. “I like it better this way.”

“Me too,” Kylo said.

They sat at a small, round table on a balcony overlooking the track, Kylo’s fingers twined with hers on the table. A breeze smelling of salt and sand teased at her hair, a strange combination of life and desolation. Kreet scuttled back and forth, up and down the balcony railings, chasing night insects while the Nightfolk watched, their eyes reflecting red in the shadows.

“Those animals love to run,” she said at last into the comfortable quiet. “They don’t like being _forced_ to run.”

Kylo was silent a long moment, looking down on the track. “No,” he said at last.

Other people at other tables nearby spoke quietly, lit softly by the balcony lights, by the flickering candles in blown glass globes on the tables. A serving droid moved between them, finally coming to a stop with a little bow by Rey and Kylo’s table.

It offered a tray with two drinks in graceful stemmed glasses and bowed again. “Sir,” it said in its modulated voice. “Compliments of the gentleman at the fourth table.”

Rey followed its gesture. A man maybe ten years older than Kylo sat alone a few tables over. When Kylo turned his head to follow the droid’s gesture, the man smiled slightly and bowed his head.

“Here we go,” Kylo muttered. He bowed his own head and raised his glass.

Rey leaned close. “Who is it?”

Kylo took a sip of the drink and nodded for Rey to drink hers. “We’ll find out soon.”

Rey didn’t touch her drink. She didn’t drink anything strangers gave her. You never knew if there might be something in it. She looked around surreptitiously for something that could be used as a weapon. The chairs. She could throw the candle burning in its pool of hot oil and kick over the table. There wasn’t much else.

Kylo watched her. “No,” he said. “He won’t be that kind of threat.”

“What kind will he be?”

Kylo thought. “None, maybe. We’ll see.”

In a few minutes, the man stood and ambled over. Grey streaked his brown hair and a sharp pair of deep-set blue eyes took them in. “May I introduce myself?” he said. “I’m Arsan Parr”

“Ben Organa,” Kylo introduced himself. “My betrothed, Lady Rey Junari,”

She shot him a look. _Lady_ Rey. She might’ve been angry or outraged, but she was only mildly irritated. It was so _Kylo Ren_. Moving much too fast, dragging her along when she would’ve scouted and tested, making sure it was safe.

Holding in a sigh, she bowed her head as he had.

Parr leaned back against the balcony railing. “Leia Organa’s son.”

Kylo bent his head in acknowledgment.

“Do you know what they’re calling you? ‘The Lost Price of Alderaan,’” Parr said. “You wouldn’t believe the rumors surrounding you. That you were dead. That your mother had hidden you for your protection. That you’ve reappeared to avenge what was done to Hosnian Prime. That you’re a Resistance operative sent to undermine the First Order.”

Kylo cocked his head. “That’s a lot of rumors. Which do you believe?”

Parr laughed softly. “All but the first. Which are true?”

Kylo took Rey’s hand and carried it to his knee under the table, the fine leather of his glove tight against her fingers.

“What happened to Hosnian Prime was an abomination,” he said as if talking about the weather. It made the statement that much more chilling. “Every civilized being should be glad the weapon that did it was destroyed.”

Parr stiffened.

Kylo pounced. “That news hasn’t gotten out yet? I’m not surprised.”

“The only news is that the Resistance has been wiped out.”

“After destroying several large First Order assets.”

Parr narrowed his eyes. “You _are_ a Resistance operative.”

“No. I don’t share my mother’s taste for lost causes.”

“But you spread Resistance propaganda for her.”

Kylo’s fingers tightened painfully on hers. Rey felt his temper rising like red smoke.

“It’s true,” she broke in.

Kylo’s gaze shot to her.

“I was there,” she said. “I saw it.”

“Rey,” Kylo said, warning.

She ignored him. “Starkiller Base. Snoke’s flagship. I saw when they were destroyed.”

Parr gave her an indulgent smile. “Ah. Then _you’re_ the Resistance operative.”

“I’m not Resistance.” She was getting tired of saying that to everyone. “I saw because Kylo Ren captured me and took me to Starkiller Base. The Resistance rescued me.”

“You rescued yourself, sweetheart,” Kylo said. She felt a strange combination of admiration, anger and alarm from him.

She wrinkled her nose. “I wouldn’t have gotten far if they hadn’t picked me up.”

Parr looked back and forth between them as if he was trying to decide if they were tooling with him. “Forgive me, but why was Kylo Ren after you?”

“I don’t know,” Rey said. “We think it might be because of Ben.” She glanced at Kylo, running her thumb over his knuckles under the table. He looked appropriately dark, as if considering what he’d do to Kylo Ren if he ever got his hands on him. Swallowing a wild urge to laugh, she went on, “Kylo Ren might’ve thought he could get to General Organa through me.”

“And now Kylo Ren has a bounty on his head,” Parr said. “You must be pleased.”

Kylo leaned back and gave the man one of his daunting stares. “What’s your interest in this?”

Parr swirled the liquid in his glass. “As I told you, I heard rumors.” He shrugged. “I wanted to see if they were true.”

“And?” Kylo said.

Parr’s lips quirked up. “Let’s just say you’ve given me food for thought.” He straightened and bowed. “Pleased to make your acquaintance, sir, Lady Rey.”

Putting his drink down on an empty table, he ambled off. Rey watched him with narrowed eyes.

“Why did that feel like a reconnaissance run?” she said after he’d stepped back into the casino.

“Probably because that’s what it was,” Kylo said. He raised his eyes to the Nightfolk. “Who was he? I couldn’t read him without being obvious. He was thinking more about us than himself.”

_He has much interest in the First Order_ , they answered. _He heard rumors, and fears losing the money he gave them_.

“An investor,” Kylo said. “Good.” He turned his attention to Rey. “That was dangerous, Rey. Making the connection with Kylo Ren.”

“He didn’t believe you before. I could feel it.”

“He doesn’t have to believe me. He only has to doubt.”

She thought about teasing him about ‘Kylo Ren.’ She thought about telling him she could take care of herself. She decided on the truth.

“You were getting angry,” she said quietly.

His mouth tightened and his gaze slid away. “Yes,” he admitted after a moment.

Kreet jumped to the back of his chair, climbed onto his shoulder. With a soft purling sound, the hassash tucked himself against his neck.

“They’re going to talk about Leia,” Rey said. “They’re going to ask questions about her. We need to decide what we’ll say.”

“I know.”

They’d unclasped hands at some point. She reached for his again, found it clenched in a fist on his knee. She wormed her fingers into it.

“Is she alive?” she said steadily.

His jaw worked. “We don’t know,” he finally managed. “You saw her alive when you were with the Resistance.” His eyes finally rose to meet hers. They were hard and cold. “I haven’t seen her in years.”

She blinked. “Is that likely?”

“Rey—”

She found herself getting angry now. There it was again. _Again_. He’d had parents who’d loved him. And it meant _nothing_ to him.

“Is it?” she insisted.

“This isn’t helping either of us.”

“ _Is it?”_

He jerked his hand out from under hers. “She sent me away. It’s common knowledge. ‘The Lost Prince of Alderaan,’ remember?”

It rocked her back. Tears suddenly stung her eyes. “You didn’t tell me,” she whispered. “You should’ve told me.”

Kylo was breathing hard. His eyes burned and the bond snapped and seethed with emotion. “So you’d know it isn’t only filthy junk traders who throw their kids away?”

The pain was so sudden and intense she couldn’t absorb it for a moment. Then she did.

She shot to her feet, shivering with rage. “Don’t you dare! Don’t you _ever_ shove that in my face again.” She spun to run.

Kylo’s hand shot out, locked around her wrist. “Don’t run away, Rey,” he growled. “I told you, do not run away from me.”

She jerked against his hold. “Let _go_.”

He only locked gazes with her, his will striving against hers like two crossed lightsabers.

The urge to strike was almost overwhelming. She breathed hard, struggling to push it down. “Don’t trap me, Kylo. Don’t push me into a corner.”

“Don’t run away,” he said again.

“Fine,” she gritted out. “I’ll go back to the hotel. Will that satisfy you?”

He still held her wrist. “Star will go with you.”

She hadn’t noticed the Nightfolk move toward them. Now she did, Flame behind Kylo, Star beside her.

She glared at him. “I don’t need a _keeper_. I said I’ll go back to the hotel, and I will.”

He released her. “Then go.”

She spun again and stalked off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's a bit of a cliffhanger, sorry. I promise I'll make it up to you next week.
> 
> I have a thing about dark lords, so most of my stories feature them. If you love dark lords too and want to try one who isn't Kylo Ren, check out my book [Blackthorne](https://books2read.com/u/4Xgg79). Kylo reminds me of Blackthorne in a lot of ways.


	45. The Bond

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Rey and Kylo discover the truth about the bond.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **CW:** There's a brief flashback to grooming by a child predator in the last scene. It begins with “She and a bunch of other kids…” and ends with “The walker had been a gift.” Not too detailed.

The casino was just as crowded as ever. The noise beat at her, jangling and beeping, shouting and hooting. Her chest much too tight, Rey slipped through the graceful throngs, finally spilled out into the street. The lights were too bright. Too many people crowded the sidewalks, too many speeders hummed along the street. She should call a speeder. No. The idea of being closed in was unbearable. She strode on.

The streets finally quieted. She slowed, trying to calm her breathing. A tickle of fear ran up her backbone, prickled her neck. She stopped and turned.

A tall cloaked and hooded figure followed behind her, skimming in and out of the shadows. Tensing, she reached for the Force.

The next instant, she recognized one of the Nightfolk. She planted her feet and waited.

“I told you,” she said when he came close _._ “ _I don’t need a keeper_.”

The Night-one—she finally recognized Star under in the light—cocked his head. Streetlight reflected red in his three eyes. _Humans are too alone. You should not be alone. My brother should not be_.

Her throat felt thick. She crossed her arms tight over her chest. “How? How could he say that to me? It was—it was—”

 _His pain and yours are the same_ , Star broke in. _You should understand._

That stopped her. One of their first conversations through the Force returned to her, when she asked why he killed his father. _Your parents threw you away like garbage_ , he’d said, _but you can’t stop needing them_.

He _had_ told her—she just hadn’t realized then what he was saying. And when she did realize, those weeks ago on the _Finalizer_ , she hadn’t known what it really meant: _She sent me away. It’s common knowledge_.

Rey rocked back and forth on her feet, torn between pain and remorse. All those years she’d clung to the pretty fantasy that it was all a mistake, that her family would come back for her. But Ben—

Ben had known all along exactly what had been done to him.

* * *

Kylo leaned on the balcony railing, gripping it until his fingers hurt. Kreet hummed and whined and squeezed his shoulder with his little hands. Images of Rey flashed into his mind: Rey holding his lightsaber, confronting the angry Brightfolk; her hands over her face as she tried to hide her laughter from him; going into that improbable lunge to skewer the thug ready to slash him from behind—

“Stop,” Kylo snarled.

Kreet hissed and leapt off, tearing loose a few strands of hair as he went.

Kylo clenched his jaw and stared unseeing out over the racetrack. _She wouldn’t leave it alone_ , he thought. She had to keep pushing until he was forced to show her that having a family meant _nothing_. She thought family would make everything better, when it only meant you knew with perfect clarity that they didn’t want you, you were never good enough, you would never fit—

Flame broke in on his thoughts: _Star has brought her to your rooms_.

The relief he felt annoyed him. As Rey was so fond of telling him, she could take care of herself.

He didn’t _want_ her to feel she had to take care of herself. He didn’t want her to feel—

He let his head fall forward. He didn’t want her to feel that he held her in contempt.

He turned and left the balcony, made his way back through the casino and to the hotel.

Sensing Rey’s presence before he keyed open the door to their rooms, he stepped inside and shut the door. She wasn’t in the sitting room. Following his sense of her, he crossed to the dressing room. The door was ajar. Cautiously, he pushed it open.

Dressed only in her camisole and a pair of silky, cream-colored shorts, Rey sat facing away from him, her arms linked around her shins, her head bent to her knees. Kylo drew a breath to call her name, but she began speaking first, very low.

At first he thought she was talking to herself, then he noticed the rhythm to the words, as if she was singing without music.

 

_“In the galaxy is a planet,_

_On the planet, an ocean,_

_In the ocean, an island_

_Far from any shore._

_Waves all around beat_

_At high, steep cliffs._

_No ship can land,_

_No hand can reach,_

_No voice can whisper,_

_No eye can see._

_Only the waves,_

_The birds,_

_The tree,_

_The light.”_

 

Kylo’s breath stopped. From behind some locked and hidden door, long-forgotten memories burst into his consciousness…

He’d been fourteen, still only a boy. Luke’s Jedi temple was an exile still fresh and raw and much too far from home and everything he knew. He’d been angry, resentful, bitter. Darkness surged and seethed around him, and within, that ever-present voice whispering just on the edge of awareness. He’d gone to sleep with an ache in his heart and a clench in his gut that no amount of meditation would quiet.

He’d dreamt of a small girl. She was sobbing, her thin arms wrapped around her as if she could curl up tight enough to disappear into herself. He couldn’t see where she was, anything around her. Only her, like a single light shined on her, picking her out of complete darkness.

In the dream, he sat down cross-legged beside her. It was strange. He could feel dirt under him, even smell it, dry and dusty and devoid of life, but still could see nothing but her.

“Why are you crying?” he said. He didn’t know why he should care. Maybe because her distress echoed the ache in him.

She started and sat up, eyes huge in a dirty, tear-streaked face. Her gaze flicked up and down him as she leaned back to take him in. “Where’d you come from?”

“The same place you did, I guess.” He leaned his forearms on his knees so he wouldn’t loom. She really was little—she couldn’t be more than four. “Why are you crying?” he asked again.

Her lips trembled and more tears spilled out. “Because I’m all alone. And it’s dark. And I’m scared.”

“How can you be alone? I’m here.”

She sniffed and wiped her nose with the back of one grimy hand. “But there’s _monsters_.” She looked around and whispered, “There’s _eyes_. There’s a _voice_. I _hear_ it.”

It hadn’t made any sense why some little kid he’d never seen before in his life would appear in his dreams. Now it did. “I know. I feel it too.”

Her eyes widened. “You do?”

He nodded. “Ever since I remember. It used to scare me, too.”

She eyed him. “It doesn’t scare you anymore?”

Ben rubbed a hand up and down his leg, thinking about the whispers he’d fallen asleep to. “I’m a little old to believe in monsters.”

“But they’re _real!”_

_Yes. They are._

“Mmm,” he said and leaned close. “Listen, if they scare you again, just think about me and you won’t be alone.”

She frowned, puzzling over this logic. “But I will be. Won’t I?”

“Maybe not. We’ll see.”

Kylo couldn’t remember if the dream had gone on after that. Only that when he woke, he felt the light that had shined on her shining in him, too, driving out darkness and anger and pain.

When had he decided she was real, out there somewhere in the galaxy? Maybe when he realized how strong the Force felt whenever he dreamt of her. How as he grew older, so did she, losing and gaining new teeth, limbs lengthening, one shirt growing ever smaller and shabbier before another, dirty and much too large, replaced it. He never told anyone, not even Luke, no matter how strange it was that the Force should give him dreams about a grubby little girl in tattered clothes.

The last time the dream came…

Horror burst through him when she appeared, gleaming against nothingness. He’d joined Snoke by then. Every instinct screamed that Snoke could never, ever know about her.

She was curled up again, all knobby knees and elbows and a bird’s nest of hair tied back in scraps of rags. She must’ve sensed him—her head jerked up.

“You’re here!” she said on a relieved outrush of breath.

He swallowed hard at the trust and gratitude in those two words. “What’s wrong?”

He shouldn’t be talking to her. The longer she was present in his mind, the greater the danger. But he couldn’t just leave her.

“They made me go into this hole,” she said. “It was really small. I couldn’t hardly wiggle through, the light they gave me was no good and my arm got cut and bled all over and it hurts really bad now. I couldn’t find the thing they wanted, and I was scared and got really, really thirsty, but they wouldn’t let me come out till I brung it.”

“Did you find it?”

“I found it.” Her mouth set. “I _hate_ them.”

“Don’t,” he said. “Don’t hate. Promise me.”

She recoiled at his intensity. “Okay. I promise. But why?”

He couldn’t begin to explain. Even if he wanted to, he couldn’t tell this little girl where hate and fear and anger could lead.

“I won’t be able to talk to you anymore,” he said instead. “You won’t see me again.”

Her eyes flew wide in alarm, then panic. “No! You can’t!” She reached out as if to grab him. “You can’t leave me!”

“I have to,” he said as gently as he could.

She started arguing, pleading.

“Remember the monster?” he said over her frantic babbling. “Remember the eyes and the voice?”

That silenced her. She nodded, her eyes still wide.

“I found him.”

Only a short time with Snoke, and he’d begun to realize that things weren’t what he’d expected.

“I don’t want him to find you,” he said. “That means you have to forget all about me, and I have to forget you.”

Her face crumpled. “But what’ll I do without you?”

“I’ll give you a present, something you’ll always have, something no one can take away.”

“I don’t want a present. I want _you_.”

Oh, how that pierced him. “I know. But the present will have to do. Will you let me give it to you?”

She was sobbing now, but she nodded.

“It’s a poem. When you’re scared or lonely, you can say it to yourself and it will make you feel better.”

He’d amused himself making up poetry and songs, writing them in flowing calligraphy. There would never again be poetry in his life. That, he knew. But he made one more, a gift of words and images for her to hold when he was gone.

“ _In the galaxy is a planet, on the planet an ocean, in the ocean an island_ …”

As Ben repeated the words, she whispered them with him. He pulled away, making the dream only a dream, not something real and impossible that had followed them through all those years. By the last repetition, he thought he’d convinced her, too. Even if he hadn’t, she was still only a child. Dreams and imaginary friends would fade soon enough.

Now, as Kylo stood frozen in the doorway in their hotel room, Rey broke off suddenly and turned, her eyes wide and uncertain. He searched for signs of the child in the woman’s face.

 _Why did I never guess?_ he thought. Because he’d buried every trace of her deep, where he himself wouldn’t find it. Even the images he’d seen when he went into her mind on Starkiller Base hadn’t made him ask the obvious question: what would a scavenger from a desert planet know about oceans and islands?

He drew a breath. It seemed there wasn’t enough air. He quickly crossed to her, dropped to the carpet, pulled her into his lap. She yelped and squirmed.

He folded around her, pulled her head to his shoulder and whispered, “… _No ship can land, no hand can reach, no eye can see, no voice can whisper_ …”

She went still in his arms.

He went on, “… _only the waves, the birds, the tree, the light_.”

She tried to push away. “Where did you hear that?”

Kylo let her go far enough to see his face. “Where did you hear it?”

“I don’t remember.” She frowned. “Somebody told it to me. It always made me feel—” She broke off, her gaze sliding away.

“Safe? Not alone?”

“Did you take it out of my mind?”

“No. I only saw the ocean and the island that time. I didn’t hear the words.”

She eyed him, her hands planted on his chest. Would she guess? Would she remember? Maybe not. She’d been so young.

Relief and wonder rushed over him. He hugged her close again. “It wasn’t me,” he whispered. “I didn’t do it. It was already there. It’s been there a long time.”

The idea had preyed on him, that he’d forced the bond on her. That she was only with him, only attached to him because of an act of violence.

“What was?” she said. “What didn’t you do?”

He felt her confusion and beginning alarm. He knew he wasn’t making sense. “The bond. _I_ gave you that poem. To help you feel safe. To help you remember…” He closed his eyes. “…remember a time when you weren’t alone.”

She didn’t say anything. He felt the fast, hard beat of her heart against his chest.

“I’ve known that poem forever,” she finally said. “I used to say it to myself at night in my shelter when I was little.”

“Yes.”

She didn’t move, hardly seemed to breathe. She swallowed. “You mean…since I was little…” Her voice died.

“We’ve shared this bond.”

Another long silence. “How?”

“The Force—” he began, then stopped. “What happened when you were about four? Is that when your parents left you?”

He thought it was. The child he’d seen in his vision when they touched on Ahch-To had been about that age.

She nodded, not meeting his eyes. “It must’ve been. I don’t remember _them_ , either. Just fear, feeling like I was suffocating, like my insides were being torn out. Trying to run after something—someone—but something held me back and wouldn’t let me go. I had nightmares about it for a long time....” She trailed off and squeezed her eyes shut.

He clenched his jaw, dark memories tumbling through his mind.

The way everyone— _everyone_ —was afraid of him. The isolation. Snoke’s relentless whispers. The nearly ceaseless rage, the way almost anything would set it off. Rampaging through the house, shouting at his parents, running into the woods where he wouldn’t hurt anyone when he reduced acres of trees to slash and kindling.

“Things had started to go bad then,” Kylo said. “I thought I was going insane. Luke said I was too strong with the Force. That I’d better train to learn to control and direct it. The first time I dreamed of you, they’d just left me at the Jedi temple. I was angry. Hurt.” He paused, thinking. “You and I must’ve needed each other. The bond must’ve connected us when we did.” He stroked her hair, soothing her, soothing himself. “I must’ve reactivated it on Takodana. Or our proximity might’ve done it. Or the bond itself drew us together.” Pieces fell together in his mind, precise and perfect. He caught his breath in sudden, blinding realization. “ _That’s_ why my grandfather’s lightsaber called to you. _Because we were already bonded_.”

She was silent, but he sensed her furious roil of thoughts.

“But you’re older. Didn’t you know…?”

“I made myself remember only a dream, then I buried the dream. I couldn’t let Snoke know about you.”

She did push away now. “You _protected_ me?”

He nodded once.

She searched his face. “Nobody ever protected me.”

It was all there now. Everything he’d forgotten—everything he’d made himself forget.

“I’d have come for you, Rey. I would’ve stolen a ship. I was starting to plan it. When the Force connected us again, I was going to try to find you.”

Before he could, Luke had decided the galaxy would be better off without him.

How that one, crucial instant had twisted his life! He’d fled to Snoke out of desperation. When had desperation become choice? Or had it been always only about survival, once he realized what he’d allied himself with?

“I wish I remembered, Ben,” Rey said in a wistful voice—one so different from the fiery Rey he knew. She laid her head back on his shoulder.

He took her hand, kissed each finger then folded it in his. “Let me show you.”

He let her into his mind, his memories, sharing what they’d both forgotten for so long.

Her eyes were bright with tears when she withdrew from his mind. She hugged him tight. “ _Thank you_. I still don’t remember. But there were times when it felt like that poem was the only thing keeping me alive.” She fell silent a moment. “I _wish_ —”

He knew exactly where she was going with that. “I do too. It would’ve been better for both of us. But it wouldn’t have worked out this way, Rey. You’d’ve been like my little sister, and you’d think of me as your older brother.”

“You’re right.” She wrinkled her nose. “Eww. No.”

He huffed a laugh. “Kidnapping you was better?”

She frowned at him. “Better than _that_ , anyway.”

“I should’ve remembered when I went into your mind on Takodana. I wouldn’t have hurt you. I wouldn’t have frightened you.” He cast back to those first moments he had her in his grasp. “There was something… That’s why I took you. I had to understand. You have no idea what I felt when I came back to that interrogation room and you were gone.”

“If we’d both remembered, you wouldn’t have been so terrifying.”

* * *

Kylo held her in his lap, rocking her. It was intense, almost frighteningly so, but it also soothed her, made her feel safe and protected, filling the raw emptiness that had ached like an unhealed wound as long as she could remember.

“Ben?”

“Hmm?” His voice hummed under her cheek, against her chest.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”

“Didn’t know what, sweetheart?”

She wet her lips. It was as tender a subject for him as it was for her. Maybe even more tender. “That Leia—that your parents sent you away.”

He stilled.

She plunged on. “I didn’t mean to hurt you. I didn’t understand.”

After a moment, he relaxed again. “You were right. I’ll have to talk about her. I’ll have to get used to it.” Under her cheek, his chest rose with a long breath. “Rey, what your parents were, what they did—that has nothing to do with you. With who you are. They were _fools_.” The last sentence came out as a snarl.

The pain of the truth was still so fresh, so raw. Someday it would scab over—maybe even heal. But not yet.

“I guess I’ll have to learn how to talk about it, too.” She pressed her lips tight. “How to _think_ about it.”

“You think,” Kylo said, “how much better you are than they were. How much stronger. They surrendered to their weakness. _You_ face it. Over and over again, you face it. I’ve seen it.”

“I hid from the truth.”

“You were a child. You did what you had to survive.”

And everything had been about survival, as long as she could remember.

Rey’s mind drifted back to her AT-AT. When she’d first found it, only the feet and the side of the troop compartment were exposed. Sand had flowed around it, blown by the wind so that a kind of courtyard had formed between the legs. She’d brushed the main hatch clean and dropped down into a dark, echoing space that smelled of old lubricant. It was the first time she’d felt safe and protected.

She and a bunch of other kids had been living with their overseer. After a while, the man had started looking at her funny. Talking to her funny, calling her his pretty little lady. _Touching_ her when no one was around to see. She shuddered at the memory, fighting down the nausea that always came with it.

The walker had been a gift. The day she found it, she smuggled in her small bundle of belongings and slept in a pile of rags in the corner of the troop compartment. She never told anyone where she’d gone.

How old had she been? Eight? Nine? She puzzled, trying to figure out the timeline of the dreams Kylo showed her. In the memory of the night Luke had almost murdered him, Kylo had looked around eighteen—he’d never said, and neither had Luke. And Kylo must be about ten years older than she.

She didn’t remember the dreams, but she remembered making the first mark on the wall in her shelter. _One_ mark on the dark metal wall. She hadn’t cried, but she remembered the pain, the wrenching grief, promising herself that she only had to count the days before someone who loved her came back for her.

For the first time it occurred to her—why had she started marking the days _then_ , if her parents had left her years before? What if it wasn’t her parents she’d been waiting for…

What if it was _Kylo?_

She would never tell him. _Never_. She could guess how he’d feel if he thought _he_ was the one she’d made thousands of marks waiting for, the one who’d abandoned her—even if he couldn’t help it.

He didn’t need any more guilt on his conscience. She wouldn’t be the one to give it to him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just to be clear, Kylo and Rey are in **NO WAY** related to each other. I don’t want to create any confusion about that, ‘kay? ‘Kay.


	46. Echoes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Kylo confesses his love, Rey's abandonment comes back to haunt her, and Luke proves that irony is alive and well in the galaxy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I haven't told you in a while how much I appreciate your support. Your awesome comments make me so happy, and give me some good ideas, too. Thanks for reading, and for your kudos, bookmarks and subscriptions. You're the best! 💕

Even through gloves and coat and tunic, Kylo seemed to feel a great deal of skin. He tilted his head to look down at Rey, folded neatly in his lap and tucked under his chin where they still sat on the dressing room floor.

Yes, there was a bare arm and shoulder, both dusted with freckles, and a long, _long_ length of trim leg.

“Rey,” he said. “What are you wearing?”

She untucked herself. “Oh…” She shifted a little and said, almost in the tone of a question, “The woman at the clothing shop said you’d like it.”

He ran one hand over her leg. “Let me see.”

She hesitated, then slid off his lap and climbed to her feet. She wore a look somewhere between shy and cautiously hopeful.

Her camisole dipped low to show the swell of her breasts, flowing over their gentle curves. There was just enough strap to hold up the slip of silky fabric, a cream color that made her golden-toned skin glow. The shorts…

Mmm. _Yes, please_.

Kylo leaned back, bracing on one hand. “Turn around.”

She gave him a look but turned. The softly draping fabric of the shorts rode high on her bottom, exposing the lower curves of her cheeks. They made her long, strong legs look even longer.

He realized he’d stopped breathing. He huffed out a breath then stood in one swift motion. He had his arms around her and his face buried in the crook of her neck before she could turn around.

“I like it…” He inhaled a long breath. Her scent always reminded him of sunlight and summer. “…very much.”

His thoughts at the moment made him perversely glad he hadn’t found her as a child. They would’ve made such thoughts horribly uncomfortable.

He bent his head, set his mouth at the point of her shoulder. Sliding one strap of her camisole off, he gradually worked his way along her shoulder and up her neck.

She shivered, her breathing quickening. “Ben…”

He slid the other strap down and kissed up that side. The only thing holding up the scrap of shimmery fabric now was his arm across her chest.

She turned in his arms, and the garment slipped down, baring her. Slowly, he caressed her, skimming the column of her throat and the slope of her shoulders, the arches of her collarbones and curves of her breasts. Sensation was muted through his gloves, but the sight of the black leather against her bare skin was incredibly arousing. Her lips parted and her eyes grew very dark.

Her arousal heightened his even more, but sex wasn’t all he wanted now. He wanted this closeness, this belonging. To know that she was _his_ , that she had been nearly her whole life—

No. They belonged to each other—belonged _together_. The knowledge eased something tight and desperate in him.

Kylo drew her close, kissed her tenderly. She slipped her arms around his neck, her fingers sliding into his hair. He groaned into her mouth and felt her smile against his lips.

“Did I ever tell you how much I love your hair?” she murmured.

He closed his eyes and hummed in pleasure.

Her hands moved to his shoulders, working to push off his coat. Still kissing her, he lifted her in his arms before she could make any progress.

Carrying her gave him a strange sort of satisfaction, something primal and male. He savored the way she felt in his arms, pressed to his chest, knowing how easily he could overpower her but choosing to cherish and protect her instead.

He carried her to the bedroom, laid her down on the bed. She sat up and went to work on his clothes again. He let her, helping when necessary, enjoying the view as he did.

He lay down and pulled her close. Her hands wandered down his body.

As they lay pressed skin-to-skin, he stroked her hair. “Let me just hold you.”

Her eyes leapt to his. Worry and a glimmering of rejection flicked into them.

“No,” he said. “I want to show you something first. Close your eyes.”

Rey searched his face, puzzled, then closed her eyes.

He only gazed at her a moment, the dark, delicate fans of her lashes against her skin, the faint scattering of freckles there. It was like watching sunlight through summer leaves, shadow flickering against brilliant light.

He wanted to tell her what he felt, but words seemed so pale and inadequate, and he often used the wrong ones. With Rey, he didn’t need to use words.

He opened himself fully to the bond. He wanted her to sense him completely, to know and to feel what he did. The bond pulsed and flowed, her energy to him, his to her. He drew her into himself.

His hands moved over her body, mapping its curves and dips and angles. He let her feel how much he enjoyed the feel of her skin against his, warm and smooth, silk over steel, her breasts where they pressed against his chest the only softness. He showed her the winsome beauty of her face, the way her eyes changed with her moods, shading through green and amber and brown.

He let her feel his admiration for her intelligence and resourcefulness. He showed her how much he appreciated her strength, her fire, how he respected the way she’d held her own against him from the very beginning. How deeply he valued the way she entrusted herself to him now.

“Ben—” she began.

He kissed her, silencing her. “Wait.”

He showed her how, with her, he finally found where he belonged. He let her feel his gratitude for her acceptance and compassion and understanding. For never looking down on him as weak or damaged, or scorning him as odd or strange. For her confidence in his abilities, not only in the Force, but also for challenging him to be the man he could be. For saving him from a life not worth living.

He let her feel how he treasured her, a brilliant jewel he’d always hold dear in his heart.

She suddenly locked her arms around him and buried her face in his neck, pressing every inch of her body to him as close as she could. “Oh, Ben. I love you too,” she whispered. “I waited so long for someone who loved me. I’d never have thought it would be you.”

Her tears were damp against his skin. He had to swallow hard before he could get words out. “I’m glad I found you.” His voice was rough. “I’ll never let you go again, Rey. You need to know that. You need to know what this means.”

She just breathed against him. He felt a tremor go through her and tensed, certain he’d said the wrong thing again.

“Please, don’t ever,” she whispered.

Words could never be enough for his abandoned scavenger girl. He reached out reassurance and promise through the bond. Pulling her close, he began to show her with his lips and hands and body how precious she was to him.

* * *

Rey dreamt she was a child, still in that sour-smelling, low-ceilinged hovel with a dozen other kids, back before she found her walker. Even asleep, she could sense the sleeping minds around her, hear soft movements and breaths and sighs in the dark.

It was a strange kind of dream, because in it, she was also dreaming. It was the usual one—desperation and terror, running and running and trying to catch someone. That blurry, faceless someone only walked away at first, then they ran, then zipped across the sand like they rode on a speeder. Then they really were on a speeder, fading into the dust and haze of distance.

She kept running anyway, screaming and crying until she didn’t have breath anymore. She couldn’t catch up. They were going to get away. She’d be lost and alone, and she’d never see them again.

The speeder turned into a ship that blazed up, up, smaller and smaller until it was only a bright blue dot in the white-hot sky. She still screamed and cried even when the dot disappeared, and didn’t stop even then.

A sense of pressure came, pushing aside the world. Rey knew what it meant. Instantly, she stopped crying.

 _He_ appeared: the tall, black-haired boy, the one with the big ears and nose and dark eyes that seemed to see more than anyone else’s. _My best friend_. That was how she thought of him, in the secret-est part of her mind.

She always forgot how tall he was. Every time she saw him, he seemed even taller. Lately, he seemed _bigger_ , too, not so much like a boy anymore.

His face changed when he saw her. His mouth tightened and his brows went down. “What’s wrong?”

She rubbed her face. “Nothing. Just a bad dream.” She sniffed and dropped her hands. “I have them all the time.”

She thought he’d ask about the dream. Maybe he’d say he had them too. He didn’t. He only dropped to one knee so he was on her level.

“Where are you?” he asked in a rush.

“In the place by the Pilgrims’ Road, with the other scavenger kids.”

“No,” he said, impatient. He was _never_ impatient with her. “What planet?”

“Oh. Jakku. But—”

“Just answer my questions. I don’t know how much time we have. Where on Jakku?”

Rey wrinkled her nose. _Here_ was _here_. There wasn’t a good way to describe it. “A little ways from Niima Outpost. A long ways from the Graveyard. We have to ride on a speeder to get there.”

He puffed out a breath. “That’s good.” He put a hand on his knee and leaned close. “Listen. I’m coming for you, sweetheart. I promise. Wait for me.”

Her breath stopped. _Someone is coming for me. **Someone is coming for me!**_

“How? When?” Excitement choked her so hard she could barely get the words out.

“A ship. Maybe a shuttle, maybe a freighter—I don’t know yet. I don’t know when. It’ll take time—”

The pressure was going away. He stood quickly, looked around like something scared him. He reached out both hands, fingers crooked like he was trying to hang on to the air. A sense of powerful _rippling_ quivered around her.

“Wait!” he said. She didn’t think he was talking to her, but then he asked, “What’s your name?”

His alarm and desperation were affecting her. “Rey. But—” she began.

“Rey-wha—?”

He disappeared.

Rey woke with a gasp, blinking into the dimness of the hotel bedroom. Her heart pounded hard, thrumming through her whole body. That desperate sense of _hold on, no, wait, don’t go!_ still gripped her. She forced her breathing to slow, reached out a hand to Kylo’s side of the bed.

He wasn’t there.

She sat up straight in bed, her heart and breaths racing again. A thin line of light showed under the door to the sitting room. She piled out of bed, snatched Kylo’s tunic off the floor and dropped it over her head as she raced for the door.

She couldn’t shake the horrible, choking feeling that he was _gone, gone, never coming back, I’m all alone again, I can’t do this again, I can’t_.

Panting, she reached the door, flung it open.

In the sitting room beyond, Kylo sat at a small desk. His hair hung around his face as he bent over the desk, the slim instrument in his fingers tiny and fragile in his big hand.

He jerked his head up and spun in his chair, his gaze sweeping her. Concern and some alarm tightened his face. “What’s wrong?”

It was so much like her dream, chills breathed over her skin. “I dreamt—”

She stopped. Was it something that really happened, or just a dream concocted from what he’d told her, what she _wished_ had happened?

He stood, crossed the room to her, put one hand on her hip, cupped her cheek with the other. The dark robe he wore showed the strong column of his throat, a sliver of pale chest.

“Dreamed what, sweetheart?”

The endearment echoed the dream again, made her heart hurt. If he knew what she dreamt—

No. She couldn’t tell him. If it hadn’t really happened—if he hadn’t promised to come for her—it would hurt him to know how much she wished he had. If it _had_ happened, her heartbreak at the memory would hurt him.

She took a long breath, pushed it out again, pushing out the fear and desperation. “It was just a bad dream. Then I woke up, and you weren’t there.”

He went completely still. Something flashed across the bond too quickly to identify.

He crushed her in his arms. “I will never leave you, Rey. _Never_. I told you that. Don’t ever think so. Don’t even dream it.

He knew. Either through the bond, or by simply piecing it together, he knew she’d dreamt _something_ about losing him.

He kissed the top of her mussed head. “You were asleep. I didn’t want to wake you.”

Her heart was finally beginning to slow as she gradually placed herself here, now, in his arms, in the hotel room. He hadn’t left her. As stubbornly as he’d pursued her, he never _would_ leave her. Her head knew that. The trouble was convincing the abandoned four-year-old inside her.

Maybe the only thing that finally would was time.

“What are you doing out here?” she said.

His grip on her eased, letting her pull back enough to peer at the desk.

“I was working on something.” He hesitated. “Would you like to see?”

Curiosity shouldered aside the last of the fear. She nodded. Kylo took her hand and led her to the desk.

The calligraphy set she’d given him sat there beside—was that paper? Real _paper?_ Where had he found _that?_ There was writing on it, like in the Jedi books she’d left on the _Falcon_. The letters were much fancier, though, forming swooping shapes she couldn’t read. Around the margins were ornate, scrolling lines, and in one corner, a little sketch in a few bold strokes that reminded her of Ahch-To’s rugged cliffs.

“Oh!” She reached out a hand, but stopped just short of touching, letting her fingers trace the air above the sketch. “What is it?”

“It’s a gift. For you. It’s the poem you were reciting. The one I gave you when you were a child.” He glanced at her, then back down at the paper. “I’m writing it out in calligraphy.” He paused, then said, “I didn’t know if I remembered how.”

 _“Oh!”_ she said again, reaching out both hands this time. Tears blurred the lovely work. “Oh, it’s _beautiful!”_ She swallowed hard and said very low, “No one ever gave me anything.”

He snatched her close again, holding her so tightly she could barely breathe. “ _I_ will, Rey. I’ll give you _everything_.”

Her own arms were around him, holding him just as tightly. “You already have,” she whispered.

* * *

Luke felt the moment a ship dropped out of hyperspace above Ahch-To. He felt it move into orbit, the heat on its shields as it entered the atmosphere. He sensed the lives aboard—three of them—though he couldn’t say who they were.

He didn’t hide at the heights of the island’s saddle this time, hoping to escape unnoticed. This time, he hurried down the steep stone steps, his eyes on the heavy, grey clouds for the first sign of the ship.

It broke through when he was halfway down, trailing streamers of mist from its rounded flanks—the _Millennium Falcon_. He let go a breath.

He had to admit to himself he’d been worried about who might appear in search of him, with Rey gone to Kylo Ren.

He’d decided some time ago: whoever came, he’d face them. It was time.

By the time the _Falcon_ set down on the rocky shelf, Luke was already there waiting. A fine, misting rain began, almost indistinguishable from the blown spume. He pulled up his hood.

The boarding ramp hissed down. A small being marched out first, tiny compared to Chewbacca’s huge form lumbering behind. Behind Chewie came a young, dark-skinned man Luke had never seen before and a small, spherical astromech droid. Finally, a little flock of porgs hopped out and flapped away, squawking. Luke blinked in surprise.

The small being stopped, folded its arms and looked him up and down through huge lenses. Chewie stopped just behind, his keen blue eyes pinning Luke where he stood. The young man seemed to be trying hard not to goggle. The droid tilted its head to get a better look at him then made a rude blatting sound.

Luke folded his hands in front of him and waited. He’d grown very good at waiting over the years.

“So this is the famous Luke Skywalker,” the small being finally said. “Not what I expected.”

Luke only bowed his head. Having known Yoda, he’d learned better than to discount a creature because of its size.

“Hmph.” Her snort was dismissive. “I’m Maz Kanata. I’m the one who kept your lightsaber until it called to that girl.”

Luke’s head snapped up.

“Ah, she didn’t tell you that.”

Chewie rumbled.

“He says you didn’t ask, either,” Maz translated. “Just threw it away.”

The young man overcame his awe at last. He stepped forward, his shoulders hunched aggressively, his brows gathered in a scowl. “Do you know what you did to her? Do you have any idea? She was living all alone on that junkyard of a planet. And you— _you_ shoved her away when she was scared and grieving and lost.”

 _“ **What?** ”_ the droid squawked. “ _I didn’t hear that part. How could he do that?”_

Chewie put a heavy hand on the young man’s shoulder and growled. He subsided with an angry mutter.

“Why are you here?” Luke said at last, gently.

“We have questions,” Maz said.

Luke nodded. “There’s a storm coming. We need to get out of the weather. Follow me.” He turned.

“There is a storm coming,” Maz said behind him. “But I begin to think yours isn’t the way to follow.”

Luke stiffened, his foot on the first step. A chill ran over him that had nothing to do with the penetrating mist. At last, he forced himself upward, the footsteps of the other three following.

* * *

The Caretakers hadn’t rebuilt Rey’s hut. Luke hadn’t allowed it. It was a testament, a reminder of the culmination of a series of disastrous mistakes. They’d rebuild it eventually—when he was gone.

The four of them crowded in his hut now. A driftwood fire burned in fantastic colors on the small hearth, the rain that fell through the smoke hole in the roof hissing as it touched the flames. The close, damp air smelled of smoke, salt, wet fabric and leather and fur. The little droid’s optical sensor flickered reflections of the fire.

The young man—Finn, a former stormtrooper, of all things—had glared at him as he told of Rey's kidnapping by Kylo Ren. Maz translated for Chewie as he described loading Rey into the Falcon's escape pod to return to Kylo Ren.  Finn described Leia's collapse. (Luke bowed his head at that, even though it only confirmed what he'd already felt.) The surrender of the Resistance. Rey’s appearance on the holo with Kylo Ren. Maz picked up the story again, telling of his disappearance afterwards, the trail of destruction he’d left behind him and the bounty on his and Rey’s heads.

 _“Kylo Ren was on Jakku_ ,” the droid beeped. “ _That was why Poe ordered me to get away. That was how Rey found me.”_

Luke sat up straight. “What was he doing on Jakku? Looking for Rey?”

Finn was looking back and forth between them. “You understand him? Did he tell you about Jakku? We were there to get the map to find you.”

 _“Kylo Ren wanted the map to Luke Skywalker_ ,” the droid agreed, then gave a low, thoughtful whine. “ _Stormtroopers and TIE fighters were chasing Rey, too, though_.”

Luke raised his eyes to Finn. “Was Kylo Ren searching for Force-sensitives?”

“Poe Dameron only told me about the map.” Finn shrugged. “Mission objectives are way above a stormtrooper’s pay grade.”

Luke didn’t like the coincidence, if it was one.

One question had nagged at him: “You said Anakin’s lightsaber called to Rey,” he said to Maz. “Why?”

Maz and Chewie shared a look.

“I know. I should’ve asked when she was here. I didn’t. I was wrong. I’m going to be saying that a lot, won’t I?”

“You damn sure will,” Finn growled.

Luke sighed.

Maz gave Finn’s arm a quieting pat. “I couldn’t tell what she was when I saw her, but when she found that lightsaber, I felt the Force circling her like a whirlwind, ready to sweep her up and carry her away.”

“Like Kylo Ren,” Finn muttered.

Hands clasped between his knees, Luke stared into the multicolored fire. “I couldn’t tell what she was, either. Light side, I thought at first. She blazed with it. But she turned to the dark so easily, like stepping from sunlight into shadow. Even after I warned her. She did it three times while she was here.”

He pressed his lips together. Like Ben. Dark to light, light to dark, as if one was no different than the other. He thought of the mosaic of the Prime Jedi in the temple—the figure half dark against light, half light against dark—and shuddered.

“That’s why you wouldn’t teach her, because she turned to the dark side a couple of times?” Finn said, disbelieving. “You’ve seen her. How can you even think she’d ever go bad?”

“She went to Kylo Ren,” Luke said.

Finn leaned forward, one hand braced on his knee. “Because he tricked her. He forced her.”

“I saw them holding hands.” Luke shot back. “Didn’t look like tricks or force to me.”

Finn rocked back as if struck. Even Chewie gave a grunt of surprise.

Maz made a thoughtful noise. “Have you heard of anything like that? That kind of connection through the Force?”

“In the old days,” Luke said slowly, “Jedi were supposed to possess powers far beyond what we know. Maybe this was one of them. They’re both powerful.” _More powerful than I am_ , he thought. “But what they did—” He shook his head again. “I don’t know how they did it without killing themselves.”

“Maybe they didn’t do it,” Maz said. “Maybe it was the Force that did it.”

Chewie rumbled.

“Yes,” she said. “You’re right. It would explain why the lightsaber called to her.”

Chewie growled and moaned, gesturing. Maz listened intently.

“He asks why I tried to give Rey the lightsaber.” She answered Chewie, “It called to her, but also, I could feel…” She pursed wrinkled lips. “…a connection. The girl had been asleep, waiting, clinging to something old and desperate while the Force swirled around her, trying to pull her loose. Pull her _free_.”

Chewie roared and grunted again.

“’Rey said she had visions when she touched the lightsaber,’” Maz translated. “’Frightening visions. It was why she ran away into the woods. She saw Kylo Ren in the visions. Then Kylo Ren caught her in those woods. She spoke to Kylo Ren when she was here, on this island.’ Chewbacca says he doesn’t know the Force, but his people believe in omens and vision quests. That’s another reason he didn’t try to stop her from going to him.’

“That lightsaber was a spark. A bridge, a link,” Maz added, speaking for herself now. “I could feel the pull of it, but not what was on the other end. Now I think I know.”

The droid whistled.

“Don’t,” Finn said, “even say it.”

Luke frowned. “That isn’t the way I learned the Force works. The dark tries to seduce or conquer the light. The Force doesn’t draw them together.”

“See?” Finn said. “See? Kylo Ren tricked her, just like I told you.”

Maz gave Luke a sharp, shrewd look through her lenses. “Everything’s changing,” she said. “Do you feel it?”

Chills ran over Luke’s skin. Like a tectonic shift in the Force, the very universe quaking under their feet.

“How _did_ you get my father’s lightsaber?” Luke said.

She waved a dismissive hand. “I travel a lot. All kinds of things come to me—things, people, stories. I keep them a while. In time, most go where they’re meant to.”

“To Rey,” Luke said thoughtfully.

“Kylo Ren said it was his,” Finn said.

Kylo Ren and Rey, over and over. Luke stared into the fire, thinking.

“I _should_ have taught her,” he said at last. “I saw her potential—it’s almost limitless. She came to me with all this _power_ awakened in her, and she was afraid. Afraid of it, afraid of herself. I saw it—but it was too much like Ben Solo’s. I flat refused to ever do that again.” He twisted his fingers together, still staring at the flames that jumped and writhed with eerie colors. “So she went to the only other Force-user she knew of.”

He looked up now. Finn was scowling. He couldn’t read Maz’s keen eyes behind her lenses, and Chewie… Well, Chewie already knew most of this.

“I don’t doubt Kylo Ren seduced her,” Luke said.

Finn flung himself to his feet, whirled away, hands on hips.

“I’m sure he spoke to her gently,” Luke went on. “I’m sure he offered understanding. As a boy, he was sensitive—not just Force-sensitive, but sensitive to those around him. He had a strong protective streak. I’m sure he showed Rey all that. That’s how the dark side seduces us—promises to fulfill our dearest wishes. Protect us from our deepest fears.”

His mouth went dry, thinking of that night it had seduced him, in the darkness of Ben’s hut as the boy slept. He squeezed his eyes shut.

 _Lose Rey, we must not_ , Yoda had said.

“I have to reach her somehow!” Luke said, half to himself. “Turn her away from the dark—”

“The Force connected them so Kylo Ren could seduce her?” Maz broke in.

Luke pushed out a breath. “He was always powerful. I don’t know how powerful he is now. Maybe enough to forge that connection.”

Maz’s eyes seemed to see straight through him. “And the lightsaber? How do you account for that?”

Doubt bloomed like sickly flower in Luke’s chest. “I don’t know,” he admitted.

Maz nodded thoughtfully. Again, she reminded him uncomfortably of Yoda: _Always with your eyes to the horizon. Never seeing what’s right…in…front…of…your…nose!_

What was he not seeing now?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been a while since we've seen Luke. As a reminder, in the version of events in this story, he never faced Kylo Ren on Crait. He's still alive, and has been stuck on Ahch-To brooding about his MANY mistakes.


	47. The Reluctant Prince

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Kylo and Rey team up to take on the First Order's supporters... and Kylo takes Rey dancing.

By the time he was thirteen, Ben was already considerably taller than his petite mother. With his father’s absences increasingly frequent and increasingly lengthy, Ben was more and more often pressed into the role of escort. He accompanied Leia to parties and official gatherings. She told him he was there to learn. Neither of them discussed how he used his ability to read people. Quietly and without anyone knowing it, he became an advisor to his mother the Senator.

No one gave a gangly, overgrown boy in a fancy suit a second thought. He stood at his mother’s side, watchful and attentive, while she schmoozed and hobnobbed and campaigned. When they were alone again, he’d tell her who was plotting what with whom and what they hoped to gain. He relished the way his mother’s eyes narrowed and gleamed as she concocted plots of her own to thwart her opponents.

Ben _didn’t_ tell her about the predators—the men who schemed to get Leia alone and fantasized about what they’d do once they did. Those, he handled himself. He’d make it very clear that _yes_ , the Senator’s dark, intense son was watching. That was usually all it took to discourage them. If that didn’t work, a shameful secret or two murmured in guilty ears would do the job.

It was a role he’d enjoyed, the protector, the advisor.

Now that he was the one doing the schmoozing and hobnobbing, Kylo quickly discovered that he did _not_ enjoy that part.

He stood with Rey in a salon, a lofty, comfortable chamber where visitors could relax and escape the casino’s noise and crowds to socialize in a quieter setting. Baron Peldyn of Myrkr, a jowly man with moist, drooping lips and a cybernetic eye disguised as a monocle, had introduced himself. At the moment, he was trying to maneuver Kylo, trying to figure out how he could use the Prince of Alderaan.

He kept glancing at the hassash on Kylo’s shoulder, his noisy thoughts clear: _What **is** that thing? An affectation? The bodyguards most certainly aren’t. So no, perhaps not_.

Kreet purled like water running down a drainpipe and opened his mouth to show his arsenal of sharp teeth. The Baron’s gaze darted away.

Rey stood beside Kylo, a drink in hand, as quiet and watchful as he’d ever been. At a distance ostensibly out of earshot, the Nightfolk she called River and Silence shadowed them.

“Where do you stand on all this…” The Baron waved a plump hand. “…this recent _business_ , Your Highness? It must be terribly confusing. Your mother a Senator of the New Republic and General of the Resistance, your grandfather the old Emperor’s strong right arm.”

Kylo ground his teeth, concentrating on not crushing the glass in his hand. The “Your Highness” was straddling the line between mockery and flattery.

“I stand,” he said, trying to keep the edge out of his voice, “for stability. Endless war doesn’t promote that.”

“Well, I should say that now that there’s no more New Republic, no more Resistance, the war ought to be over.”

“The war might be over,” Kylo said. “It doesn’t mean the galaxy is in good hands. The First Order is hardly a stable regime.”

The Baron looked somewhere between shocked and alarmed. River and Silence latched on, increasing his alarm.

“Why? What do you mean?”

Kylo stepped closer. “Three Supreme Leaders in less than a month. _Three_. Does that sound stable to you?” He counted on his fingers. “Snoke assassinated by Kylo Ren, who, as his heir apparent, took his place. Now Hux has supplanted Kylo Ren. Since Ren has a bounty on his head, he must be out there somewhere, waiting for his chance to take Hux down.”

“How do you—?” The Baron began.

Kylo gave Rey a warning glance. He did _not_ want her connecting herself to Kylo Ren again.

“My mother’s information,” he said.

“What do you propose?” the Baron said. “That the Republic be restored? Is that what you’re doing, trying to recruit for the Resistance?”

“The Republic was corrupt and ineffectual,” Kylo said. “The Resistance is on the run, the next best thing to crushed.”

The Baron eyed him with confusion.

“Lord Peldyn, despite my mother, I have no interest in politics.” Kylo stepped even closer, into the Baron’s personal space, and lowered his voice. “I _do_ worry about the galaxy falling under the sway of an organization propped up by the criminal cartels and syndicates. I’m concerned about a regime so weak it has to steal children to fill its armies, and plunder resources to build its fleets. I have nightmares about a group that destroys inhabited planets to demonstrate its weapons.”

A wave of darkness came from the Nightfolk, turning Kylo’s words into grim visions. The Baron’s eyes dilated and his breathing picked up. Pinpricks of sweat glittered along his hairline and on his upper lip.

He ran a hand down his face and backed a half step, stammering. After a moment, he managed, “I suppose, being Alderaanian, you’d be sensitive to that.”

“The whole galaxy should be sensitive to that,” Kylo said.

“Of course,” the Baron hurried to say. “Hosnian Prime was a tragedy. A great tragedy.”

Rey, narrow-eyed, watched the man. Her contempt curled through the bond. “Wiping out a whole planet is more than a _tragedy_ ,” she said quietly.

Kylo put a soothing hand on her back. “General Hux was responsible for the development, construction and deployment of the weapon that did that. The same Hux who’s now Supreme Leader. _That_ is what now intends to rule the galaxy.”

Baron Peldyn stared wide-eyed. “What do we do?” he whispered. “What _can_ we do?”

“That’s the question,” Kylo said.

The Baron darted a furtive glance around. “Am I to assume you won’t be supporting the First Order?” he said in an undertone.

Kylo shared a look with Rey, then pretended to think. “The First Order has the potential to improve the galaxy,” he finally said, then added, “If it functions under the right leadership.”

The Baron looked white around the eyes, as if Kylo had just suggested assassinating Hux. Which actually, he had. He’d rarely seen a man backtrack so fast.

“I see.” The Baron cleared his throat. “Well, Your Highness. This discussion has been highly educational.”

As the Nightfolk continued to work on him, Kylo pinned the man with his gaze. He’d learned a long time ago how effective a simple stare was. He often didn’t even have to threaten anyone.

“Yes it has,” he said. “It’s always helpful to know how the board is laid out before play begins.”

The Baron bowed, took his leave and scuttled off as quickly as he politely could. Kylo kept staring until the man left the room. The Baron looked back once. Not a second time.

Kylo turned away. “I hate this,” he said to Rey in an undertone. “These _games_. It’s easier when they’re afraid of me.”

Rey gave him a wryly amused look. “I think he _was_ afraid of you, Ben.”

“He was more afraid of what I told him about Hux.”

“That’s good then. So what’s the problem?”

He was silent a moment, trying to put the pure offensiveness of the situation into words. “Myrkr is an insignificant Inner Rim world. The First Order could run it over without a thought. If he can claim a connection with a Core world like Alderaan—even if Alderaan has been only orbiting rubble for the last forty years—it will give him some status. People will be more willing to listen to him.” He pressed his lips tight and looked away, seething. “More willing to include Myrkr in their plans.”

She reached out, took his hand. Her fingers tucked under the cuff of his glove. He started, looking down at her, feeling her reach out to sense him more clearly skin-to-skin.

“You feel used,” she said. “Even though you _want_ people to listen to him.”

He huffed out a breath. He’d been used too much for too long. His gut clenched at the thought of any more.

She studied him long enough he had to struggle to stay still, not to pull out of her grasp. Gentle reassurance welled through the bond. Kreet purred softly in his ear.

“There was something he wanted, and something you wanted,” she finally said. “You worked a deal that came out good for both of you. That’s the best kind. That kind of deal means more people will want in on it. You should be happy.”

His anger gave way to her. “I’m not good at this, Rey. I don’t like it.”

She wrinkled her nose. “You might not like it, but you _are_ good at it.” She let go of his hand and stepped closer. “What if I try? _I_ like it. It’s fun.”

He eyed her skeptically. “It is _not_ fun. It’s annoying and degrading. It’s a waste of time and energy.”

“I bargained all the time on Jakku. I had to.” She held out her arms. “I’m still here, so I did all right.”

“And Laharna?” he couldn’t help asking.

She glared. “Don’t blame that on me. That deal blew up because of your stupid ship. I _told_ you it was going to be trouble.”

He started to argue then realized—she’d pulled him free of whatever shame or inadequacy had been trying to prey on him. He raised his hand and caressed her cheek, letting her feel his gratitude. Closing her eyes, she turned her head into his hand.

“All right,” he said. “Yes. You know what we’re trying to do here.”

She rubbed her cheek against his hand, humming with pleasure.

He bent his head and said sternly, “If you keep doing that, we’re going back to the hotel.”

She smiled, her eyes still closed. “If that was supposed to be a threat, it didn’t sound much like one.”

He was fast losing focus. “Rey. River and Silence are here. Kreet is watching.”

Her eyes popped open. She drew back and frowned at the hassash on his shoulder. Kreet gave a disapproving growl and tugged at his hair. The disapproval was directed at Kylo.

“Besides,” he said. “I’m eager to see how the galaxy’s lords and executives and investors hold up against the girl who survived Jakku on her own for fifteen years.

Holding his eyes, she took his wrist, pushed back his sleeve and gave the inside of his wrist a hot, open-mouthed kiss, her tongue drawing a moist circle on his skin. Against his wrist, her lips curled in a smile. “They won’t stand a chance.”

Kylo set his jaw, willing his body not to react. _He_ certainly didn’t stand a chance.

* * *

You could almost see the rumors spreading. It wasn’t just idle curiosity that greeted them when they walked into a room now, but intense interest.

Rey knew this game. Be alert, but not alarmed. Show interest, but not suspicion. Never, _ever_ look like prey. Still, even with the Nightfolk shadowing them, the whispers around them made Rey wish for the comforting heft of her staff at her back.

People trickled over and started conversations, polite small talk that was a cover for scrutiny. Rey handled those while Kylo stood beside her looking regal and unimpressed, silent unless directly spoken to. She could feel the grim endurance under his indifferent exterior.

She once made the mistake of imagining all these curious fancy people making small talk with Kylo Ren, with his mask and cloak and lightsaber, and had to smother a laugh. Kylo looked at her with concern when she suddenly started coughing.

Eventually, they made their way to a lounge. The lights were lower here, the ambience far from the casino’s frenetic energy. A Czerialan woman in a metallic blue dress played gentle music on a stringed instrument, her topknot of white hair bobbing in time. The Nightfolk, with Kreet, stood in a dim corner, their grey robes blending into the shadows. It didn’t take long for more people to approach.

The four talking with them now were definitely _not_ there for small talk: a Kuat-Entralla investor named Jhet Rahn and his wife, Eslyn, who owned a construction contracting company; a governor of Corellia by the name of Waran Brin, and a bank executive. Rey didn’t know much about the galaxy, but she knew these people had major interests in the First Order.

The investor and his wife instantly put her on her guard—they felt like circling ripper-raptors. The woman’s ears glittered with diamonds. When she was eleven, Rey had found an earring—a tiny diamond stud—in a broken section of a star destroyer’s plumbing. She’d traded it for two weeks’ worth of portions.

The Corellian was an older man with curly grey hair. He seemed all right, but she sensed a hint of steel under his friendly exterior. The banker didn’t say much, but she had the impression he was neither comfortable nor happy.

“What do you do, Lady Rey?” Eslyn said in the course of conversation.

Rey felt Kylo tense at the question, though he gave no outward sign.

“I’m serving as a liaison now,” she said. It was something she’d heard on a holo she’d found in a wreck. It had taken a while to figure out what a “liaison” was, but it sounded like what she was doing.

Kylo relaxed

“Ah,” Rahn said and drew breath for what Rey was certain to be _a liaison to whom?_

Rey plunged on before he could ask. “I’ve also worked as a systems analyst and equipment recovery specialist.”

Kylo coughed into his fist.

Rahn smiled. “You have a great deal of experience for being so young.”

He thought she was making it up. Well, she might be making up the titles, but not what she’d done.

Smiling back, Rey pulled out the big guns. “I haven’t gotten a good look at Kuat-Entralla’s new _Resurgent_ -class star destroyers yet,” she said. “But from what I’ve seen, they’re superior to the old Kuat Engineering _Imperial_ -class destroyers. Those conning towers were a real weak point—too vulnerable to enemy fire. Now, if you want a good, tough civilian ship, you can’t go wrong with a Corellian freighter.” She nodded at the Corellian governor. “They might not look like much, but they’re fast and solid. I’ve seen one bounce off a planet’s surface and keep on flying. You can’t say that about many ships.”

All four stared at her, dumbfounded. Cold doubt crept over Rey, then she felt Kylo’s pride.

“Sorry,” she said into the awkward silence. “It’s just that I love talking about ships to people who know about them.”

Waran Brin chuckled. “You should never start talking about Corellian ships with a Corellian, my lady. You won’t be able to carry on a conversation about anything else. You might be pleased to learn there are proposals to rebuild the old Corellian Engineering shipyards, get Corellia back to work again.”

Kylo jumped into the conversation. “Did the Empire ever make restitution for the nationalization of the shipyards?”

“No,” Brin said flatly. “It was left in our hands. There didn’t seem to be much interest galactically in rebuilding Corellia.”

Kylo nodded.

Rey wondered if that was an opening. She decided it was. “We heard a rumor that the First Order also intends to take over Corellia.”

Brin started and stared but didn’t reply.

Rey leaned close. “It’s true then?”

“I received word that four star destroyers appeared in orbit a few days ago. They only requested fuel and supplies,” he said, then added, “They’re still there.”

“It’s beginning,” Kylo muttered to Rey.

The banker had been listening quietly so far. Now he spoke up. “What’s beginning?”

“After their losses, I thought this might happen,” Kylo said. “The First Order will start nationalizing vital industries. As long as they’re intent on conquering systems, they have no other choice.”

“We’ve heard rumors, too,” Rahn said. “The Resistance took out some big assets on their way down.”

“Yes,” Kylo said.

Eslyn looked at Rey sharply. “You’re the one. You’re the girl who escaped Kylo Ren.”

“Um…yes.” Rey could feel Kylo tense again.

Rahn looked at her just as sharply as his wife had. “How?”

Kylo growled, “It wasn’t a pleasant experience. She doesn’t like to talk about it.”

She put a hand on his arm. “It’s okay, Ben.” She turned to the others. “I was strapped in an interrogation chair.” She swallowed hard—she didn’t have to pretend much. “Kylo Ren questioned me awhile, then left me alone. I saw a chance to get away and I took it.” She pushed out an unsteady breath. “The Resistance picked me up before he could catch me again.”

“He underestimated you,” Kylo said.

“He did,” Rey agreed. “But I bet he won’t again.”

Kylo’s fingers folded around hers. “No.”

Rey could tell they wanted to ask more questions. One look at Kylo and they swallowed them. The group broke up shortly after.

Kylo took both her hands and pulled them to his chest, pulling her close. The soft light made his eyes darker and more intense than ever. The soft music wove a spell of intimacy. “You’re _perfect_.”

She frowned but couldn’t help the smile that peeked through. “I am _not_ perfect.” She blew out a breath and let her head fall against his chest. “I feel like I did in the barn on Jannessi, when you started pulling me off that beam with the Force.”

“I didn’t let you fall then. I won’t now.”

“Did I make many mistakes?”

“Rey—” He stopped. “I’m glad I found you. You were _wasted_ on Jakku,” he said fiercely.

She sighed. “Not completely wasted. I learned how to bluff my way through a lot of situations.”

His chest moved in a huff of a laugh. “’Equipment recovery specialist.’”

“That’s what one of the older scavengers called himself. We all started doing it until the joke got old.”

His gaze flashed up. Rey started to look around, but he took her hand in a firm grip and strode off across the lounge, pulling her after him.

“Don’t look,” he said. “Two more are coming.”

His longer legs forced her to hurry to keep up. Through the Force, she felt attention on them. “Where are we going?”

He didn’t answer for a moment, scanning the casino for signs of incoming hangers-on. “Dancing,” he finally said.

“Dancing!” Alarm squeezed her chest.

People on Jakku didn’t dance—they were usually too exhausted, hungry, despondent, or some combination of all three. When she saw dancing on a holo, one of the older scavengers had to explain to her what it was.

“But—!” she began as he towed her through the casino’s noise and throngs.

“No one can talk to us while we dance,” he said.

“I thought that was why we’re here!”

“There’ll always be more later,” he said grimly.

She decided maybe he was right—a break would be nice.

When they reached the street, he slowed, released her hand and drew her arm through his, just another couple enjoying the soft tang of Canto Bight’s night air.

Speeders whooshed past. Voices and laughter echoed off the walls of shops. Savory smells unfurled from cafés. Music trickled along the street from somewhere ahead, gradually growing more distinct as they continued on. When they finally reached its source, Kylo turned aside and stepped with her through a tall, arched doorway.

Rey had an impression light and space and movement that resolved into a high, vast room filled with music and dancing couples of all sorts of species. An attendant greeted them, then moved away again. Rey hardly paid attention, watching as couples stepped and swept and swayed in time to the music. She caught the rhythm, moving to it just a little.

“It’s like sword forms, isn’t it?” she said. “Like fighting with a lightsaber.”

Kylo glanced down at her, startled. “Similar.”

As she studied the graceful synchrony of the dancers in their suits and gowns, doubt began to creep in. She’d have to do what they were doing—possible, as long as Kylo could. “Can you do _that?”_

“I learned. A long time ago.” He paused, then added, “I always hated it.”

She was the one startled this time. “Then why did you want to go dancing?”

He looked down at her. “Because I’ll be dancing with you, Rey.”

Warmth welled up in her, tightened in her chest. Holding her in his dark gaze, he took her hand, kissed her fingers and led her onto the floor.

There was a corner of her mind that wanted to panic—all the people, all moving, too close and too many to watch all at once. She filled her awareness with Kylo, the way his hand gently engulfed hers, the warmth of his other hand on her back as he pulled her close, the way he felt like a bulwark against the shifting sea of beings around them.

“Ready?” he said.

She took a long breath, put her free hand on his arm and nodded once. The music—and Kylo—swept her away.

Music moved like a tide, ebbing, flowing, drawing her along. It was like the throne room—her body knew exactly how to move, exactly how Kylo would move next, where he would be. They orbited each other like twin suns, the bond their common center of gravity.

She could feel him adjusting the forcefulness of a fighter’s moves to this setting, dialing himself back. He didn’t move with the smooth grace of the other dancers—his sheer physical _presence_ wouldn’t allow it. His was the coiled, powerful grace of some large predator stalking through the herd, pleased not to hunt at this moment.

It was pure exhilaration, like flying, all that power surrounding her, containing her in his arms. Other dancers whirled by, passing comets. Lights glittered overhead like distant stars. All that was left was this moment, the music, and Kylo, all his attention on her as if she were the bright center the galaxy orbited around.

When the music stopped, it was like dropping out of hyperspace. They fell still, but he still held her close, looking down at her, solid and present as no one else ever could be. She was only vaguely aware of the other dancers around them, talking and laughing as they moved off the floor.

Rey wet her lips, conscious of every centimeter where their bodies touched: the pressure of his hand around hers, the warmth of his touch at her back, of his body against hers, the texture of his coat under her fingers, the solidity of the muscle under it. His rich, dark scent enveloped her, nothing that she could put a name to but that was just _Kylo_. Surrounded by so many others, the intimacy was somehow enhanced.

She didn’t want to let it go.

It took a moment to find her voice. “Can we do it again?”

“As long as you want,” he said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I borrowed heavily from Colin Firth’s Mr. Darcy for this chapter. I can totally see Kylo barely tolerating all the bowing and scraping and preening surrounding him.


	48. Darkness Rises

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Kreet rats out Rey, a misunderstanding ensues, and new threats are revealed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **KYLO REN ALERT:** Yes, even now he backslides every once in a while. Sorry.

Canto Bight was a dreamworld. Looking at himself in the dressing room mirror, Kylo saw the man he could’ve—the man he _should’ve_ been.

He felt… _happy_. He was a man who’d spent the evening dancing with his betrothed, and he was happy. He didn’t allow himself to resist the feeling, just let himself feel it.

The emotion echoed back through the bond and he wondered how much of it was Rey. It didn’t matter. If she was happy, so was he.

Slipping off his coat, he opened a closet. Kreet immediately darted inside to explore, climbing over boots and shoes, rustling through clothes. Kylo surprised himself with a smile.

Kreet’s rustling suddenly stopped. After a moment, the hassash popped back out. His three eyes glittering, he gave a questioning trill and spidered across the carpet to the closet that held Rey’s clothes. Two clawed hands reached for the door, nudging it open.

Kylo watched. Curious, he extended his own senses for what might’ve caught the hassah’s interest.

From inside the closet, something rippled the Force.

He froze. _What—?_ He reached out again. He couldn’t quite make out what it was, only that it was something attuned to the Force. It seemed quiescent, muted, unresponsive to his probe, but definitely there.

What Force-attuned object could Rey have that he wouldn’t know about? He could feel the kyber in her lightsaber where it lay in the safe in the bedroom. This was no kyber. This was something else.

He hesitated, seesawing back and forth between curiosity and suspicion as the hassash inched the door open.

 _Just look_ , he told himself. Rey wouldn’t hide anything from him.

Why then did it look like she _was_ hiding something?

His mouth went dry. Too many disappointments, too many betrayals whispered at the back of his mind.

No. He couldn’t start thinking like that. Those kinds of thoughts would destroy everything. He reached out and opened the door.

“Ben?” Rey called.

He drew back his hand and turned.

Her brows kinked in a worried line. Her eyes roved over his face. “What’s wrong?”

He had to swallow before his voice would come. “What’s in there? In your drawer.” It came out abrupt, demanding.

Her gaze jumped behind him, to the closet. She looked startled, then confused. Realization flashed the instant before guilt crossed her face. Everything inside him plummeted.

“I was going to tell you,” she said quickly. “I just…never got the chance, and then I forgot…” She trailed off.

“Show me.” It came out harshly. When she hesitated, he stepped back to give her room.

Ducking her head, she hurried past him to the closet, pulled open a drawer. “I’m sorry,” she said without looking at him. “I know I shouldn’t’ve gotten it. I wasn’t going to, but the man at the shop used it to sweeten the deal when I bought your calligraphy set and I said yes before I thought about it.” She was babbling as she dug through her underthings and took out a small object. “When I saw it, I wanted it so much, even though I don’t need it. I knew you didn’t give me that credit chip to buy things just because I wanted them.”

Dragging himself out of his suspicions, Kylo struggled to comprehend what she was telling him. She felt she didn’t deserve to buy something she wanted? He looked down at the object she held out to him, a shimmering gold and crystal polyhedron etched with symbols.

It was a Jedi holocron.

“Do you know what it is?” he said.

“It’s just a pretty thing I wanted. I know better. I never kept things just because I wanted them. Only flowers, when I found them, because they wouldn’t get me any portions anyway, and my kyber. And I didn’t know what the kyber was.” She looked up at him, pleading. “I can sell it. I’m sure I can. I’ll pay you back. If I can’t, I’ll work it off when we get back to the ship. I can help in the maintenance bay. Whatever you think it’s worth.”

Now she was reducing herself to a transaction. Anger almost choked him. “You don’t think you’re worth _that?”_ He glared at the holocron in her hand, then back up at her.

She dropped her gaze again. “I didn’t do anything for it.”

He breathed hard a moment. “Saving my life was nothing? Taking care of me on Jannessi was nothing? Giving the crews of three ships hope for something better—that was nothing?”

She just looked bewildered.

All her life, she’d been used. He suddenly realized she still only valued herself for her usefulness. She thought she was only worth what she could barter. As much as he’d been in her mind, as close as the bond made them, he’d never really understood how cheaply she held herself.

Taking her by the arms, he said fiercely. “You are worth this. You are worth anything and everything I can give you.”

She just stood with her mouth open, still looking bewildered. “But you’re angry.”

He breathed a moment, felt how tight his grip was on her arms. He loosened his hold and slid his hands down to cup hers. “Because you think you don’t deserve to have something you want. You aren’t on Jakku anymore, Rey. You are allowed to have beautiful things. You don’t have to justify your existence. Never again. Never with _me_.”

A knot appeared in her jaw. She was silent a moment, then she said, “I pay my way. I don’t keep things I can’t use.”

Kylo sighed silently. It was going to take more than a few weeks to change her mindset, to get her to think beyond bare survival. He had a feeling he should be thinking in terms of months or years.

“This is useful.” He took the polyhedron from her. It prickled in his hand. It would do worse than that if he tried to activate it. “It’s a holocron.”

She gave a hiss through her teeth and recoiled.

“No,” he said. “It’s a Jedi holocron. That’s why it drew you. That’s why you wanted it. You couldn’t have walked away if you tried.” He handed it back. At her surprised look, he explained, “It’s a light side artifact. You’re the one it called to.”

She held it as if he’d handed her a viper. “Will it do… _things_ to you? The way that other holocron did?”

“Luke had a couple of Jedi holocrons I studied. Before.” Before he turned to the dark side. He cocked his head, considering. “Destruction and corruption aren’t part of the Jedi ethos. It will only refuse to answer me.”

She eyed it suspiciously. “Maybe I _should_ get rid of it.”

“No,” he said quickly. “This is priceless. You were only able to get it the way you did because that shopkeeper didn’t know what he had. Nearly all Jedi holocrons were destroyed during the Galactic Civil War.”

Something flickered at the back of his mind, something he’d heard or read somewhere. He stood still, thinking back. Something about opening a Jedi holocron and a Sith holocron… _Due to the extreme rarity of a lightsider and a darksider working together_ …

“But,” Rey said, bringing him out of his thoughts, “what do I do with it?”

“You open it and ask it questions. The gatekeeper decides which ones to answer.”

She turned the holocron over in her hands, peering closely at it. “How do I open it?”

“Open yourself to it first. Then we’ll see.”

She took the holocron into the bedroom and settled cross-legged on the bed. Kylo followed and sat on the edge. Kreet scuttled across the floor and under the bed.

She cupped the holocron in her lap. “Will you help me? The way you did with my lightsaber?”

“No.”

Her face fell.

“I can’t,” he explained. “A darksider can’t open a Jedi holocron.”

“But I’m not a Jedi.”

“No, but you’re light side.”

He sat and waited. After a moment, Rey turned it over in her hands one more time, closed her eyes and opened herself to the Force.

Kylo deliberately withheld himself, only sensing through the bond and through the Force. His influence would only make opening the holocron difficult, if not impossible.

She approached it like the mechanic she was—investigating every surface, searching for hidden switches or buttons, springs or openings.

He could imagine her when she was younger, turning a scavenger’s grinding, dangerous, degrading work into the allure of a treasure hunt, the intrigue of solving a puzzle.

He felt her withdraw her probe. Her eyes still closed, she turned the holocron in her hands once more, then surrounded it with Force energy.

The object had its own Force signature, faint and muted as it was. She dampened her own energy until it was as soft and subdued, a gentle ripple in the Force to mesh with the holocron’s, as if both she and it hummed the same low tune.

The holocron began to glow with a soft blue light. Kylo caught his breath as it grew gradually brighter, tinting Rey’s face, throwing blue shadows across the wall behind her. Her eyes flew open as it rose from her palms, rotating slowly in the air in front of her. The glow continued to brighten until it was a searing blue-white painful to look at. The holocron’s faces shifted, turning at perpendicular angles, changing it from a polyhedron into a multi-pointed star. Brilliant diamond-white light rayed up from its center. Rey scooted back on the bed, her eyes wide. A shape coalesced, the light dimming as it took the form of a Cathar female. Kylo got up and moved around to stand behind Rey.

The Cathar’s fur was a light golden brindle, her mane reddish brown streaked and tipped with gold. Kylo cast his mind back for any Cathar Jedi he’d heard of. The only ones he could think of had been during the Old Republic era. How old _was_ this holocron?

“Greetings,” the holo said. “I am Kahil.”

“I’m Rey.” Her voice was unsteady.

The Cathar's gaze moved from Rey to Kylo and back again. “I see you’ve brought your Balance, Je’daii.”

“My— _what?”_ Rey said.

Kylo started. “Je’daii” was an old, _old_ term. Many thousands of years old.

“You are much too Light to have balance within yourself, young one,” Kahal said. “You require one of the Dark.”

Rey turned to Kylo, wide-eyed. He felt her excitement.

“We’re bonded through the Force,” she said.

Kahil cocked her head. “Indeed!”

“Have you heard of anything like us?” Rey said. “A bond between a darksider and a lightsider?”

“Such a bond is usually unnecessary. The Force is better balanced within one who has affinity for it. It is unwell for any being to fall too far to the Light or to the Dark.”

Kylo was growing as excited as Rey. “Ask her what she feels in the Force now,” he said.

Rey drew breath to ask his question, but Kahil raised her head to look at him first, her ears flicking back in annoyance. “Why do you not ask me yourself, young human?”

Kylo blinked in surprise. “I’m darkside,” he said. “Jedi holocrons aren’t supposed to respond to me.”

Kahil’s ears went flat against her skull in displeasure. “That is very ill! What Je’daii would thwart balance so?”

“Jedi are taught to shun and reject the dark side,” Kylo said and quoted the Jedi code: “’ _There is no emotion, there is peace. There is no ignorance, there is knowledge. There is no passion, there is serenity. There is no chaos, there is harmony_.’”

“No!” Kahil slashed her hand through the air, her claws extended. “That is wrong! It is, ‘ _There is no ignorance, there is knowledge._ _There is no fear, there is power._ _I am the heart of the Force._ _I am the revealing fire of light,_ _I am the mystery of darkness._ _In balance with chaos and harmony, i_ _mmortal in the Force._ ’ Both Dark and Light must be accepted. Have the Je’daii teachings become so warped?

“When I went to—” Rey faltered, then straightened. “When I went to a Jedi master to learn, he criticized me for turning to the dark. He refused to teach me after I did.”

“Jedi are forbidden personal connections,” Kylo said bitterly. “No family. No _love_.”

Kahil hissed. “No wonder the Force I sense here is so wounded, so weak and broken!” she said. “Rey, only because of the Dark within you, were you able to access me. Had you any less darkness, the holocron would never have opened for you.”

That explained why an ancient holocron had been gathering dust in a curiosities shop. No Jedi, rejecting the dark side as they did, would’ve been able to open it.

“What about Ben?” she said.

Kahil raised her head and studied him, her ears still flat against her head. “You are wounded and tainted too, young human. You bear scars of torment, very old and very deep. Someone has long tried to twist you from balance.”

“My masters,” Kylo said, struggling to keep his voice even. “Both light and dark.”

If possible, Kahil looked even angrier. “Such masters should be exiled, forbidden from ever again even speaking to a youngling.”

“Is that why we’re bonded?” Rey said.

Kahil bent her head. “The Force always seeks balance.”

“The light side and the dark side have been at war for millennia,” Kylo said. “One always trying to eradicate the other. They’ve nearly succeeded. Rey and I are two of only a handful of Force-users left in the galaxy.”

“And the Force has bonded you to one another,” Kahil said. “Thus forbidding each to harm the other.”

“We’ve talked to people who think the Force is trying to balance itself through us,” Rey said. “But we don’t know how.”

“Neither of you are balanced within yourselves. The Force bonded you to balance each other.”

Rey looked back at Kylo in dismay. “Does that mean we can’t balance anything else?”

“I sense a taint in the Force,” Kahil answered. “Like a poisoned wound. You must find the source of the taint. The Force will not heal until the poison is drawn.”

“How do we find it?” Rey asked the same moment Kylo said, “Where?”

“The Force will lead you,” Kahil said.

Rey rolled her eyes.

Kahil didn’t miss it. Her lips curved up in amusement, showing the white tips of pointed canines. “You have not had a teacher.”

Rey’s chin tilted up in familiar defiance. “Ben’s taught me.”

“He has surely taught you to open yourself to the Force,” Kahil pointed out. “Do it now.”

Rey glanced at Kylo. He nodded. Rey closed her eyes, and he sensed her reach out.

“Do you feel the taint?” Kahil said. “It is much like the taint in him. Poisoned. Painful. Twisting.”

Closing his own eyes, Kylo opened himself, too. The Force felt like it always did, a rich, deep, noisy tapestry of life swirling endlessly through the galaxy, light and dark and every shade in between.

He turned his senses inward. There was the spark of light Rey had nurtured, and around it… He winced. His darkness was every bit as tainted and twisted as Kahil had described it—not the clear, clean, simple dark Rey held. He forced himself to examine it, then turned his perception outward.

He could see it now: a knot like a pustule in the Force, toxic tendrils snaking outward through the galaxy. Dark, but not clean, tainting the dark side the way the Sith holocron had on Jakku. The same taint he’d felt when they opened the Jakku Observatory.

He opened his eyes. “Do you feel it?” he asked Rey.

“Yes.” Her eyes blinked open.

“That,” Kahil said, “is what you must search for. The same taint that touched you.” She nodded at Kylo. “Now that you are aware of it, it will be searching for you, too. It will know the threat you pose to its existence. I have told you—the Force always seeks balance. The Force will guide you. Be ready.”

Kahil’s figure brightened, her edges blurring into the light. The holo turned once more into a beam of blinding light. It shrank, narrowed, and disappeared into the holocron. The object dropped into Rey’s palms with a smack, once more an inert polyhedron of crystal and metal with a rainbow sheen.

Rey gusted a breath. “Ben,” she said breathlessly.

He sat beside her on the bed, took her hand in his. It was cold and shaking. “Are you all right?”

She blinked a few times, re-grounding herself, then looked steadily at him. “Are you?”

Kylo paused, thinking. To find that his ideas weren’t complete heresy, that Force-users had once experienced and believed in balance—it was exhilarating. To know that he’d suffered his whole life because of false, flawed dogma… That was disheartening.

Rey’s hand tightened on his. The look on her face was fierce. “You’re _not_ twisted and tainted, Ben. She shouldn’t have said that.”

Her righteous indignation touched him. He took her hand in both of his. “She was right about the scars. My masters each tried to destroy half of me. They nearly destroyed all of me.”

“But they _didn’t_. You wouldn’t let them.”

“And you brought what was left back to life.”

Kreet crept cautiously from under the bed. He climbed up the bedskirt, perched on the edge and rocked back and forth uncertainly on his six limbs—apparently trying to decide if this new holocron was a threat the way the last one had been.

“The taint on the Force she talked about—what do you think it is?” Rey asked. “It’s darkside, I felt it. But you killed Snoke. Could it be the other two Knights?”

“Or the Sith holocron—you saw what it did.”

She studied him a moment. “What did you do with that holocron?”

“Kreet was angry at me.” He hesitated, unwilling to admit what had happened. “He hid it,” he finally said. “You might be able to reach it. I can’t.”

She laughed. “Good job, Kreet!”

Kreet gave a happy burble.

“It could be useful,” Kylo said defensively. “If it isn’t the source of the taint, it might be helpful in finding it.”

Rey looked down at her own holocron, her brows crooked. “Unless the taint finds us first.”

* * *

The tailor—human, not a droid—fussed around Hux, smoothing the shoulders of his coat, tugging at his cuffs and the hem of his tunic.

The braces on his legs and miniature repulsors sewn into his clothing enabled him to stand. The damaged nerves of his back screamed in agony as he did.

He could bear it—he refused to appear at his coronation in confined to a chair. With Snoke as a master and Brendol Hux for a father, he had a great deal of experience with pain. It pleased him endlessly to think that no one else would ever inflict pain on him again.

Hux turned, studying himself in the wraparound mirror, the dark walls and spare, elegant furniture of his chambers reflected behind him. He looked, he thought, like some great personage in an ancient painting. Perhaps he’d find an artist to paint him this way, vibrant and refined in his floor-length coat and trim-fitting tunic and trousers.

“The green looks especially well on me,” he said to the tailor. “It will go quite well with the gold armor of my guards, don’t you think? Although I do find the royal blue quite fine as well. Let me see that one again.”

“Of course, Supreme Leader.” The tailor hurried to slip the coat from his shoulders.

The sound of voices came from the foyer. He ignored the distraction as the tailor drew the blue coat up his arms and over his shoulders. The next moment, an older man with a long, serious face and pronounced bags under his eyes appeared behind Hux in the mirror.

The man bowed deeply. “Supreme Leader.”

“What is it?” Hux snapped. “As you can see, I’m engaged.”

“I beg your pardon, Excellency. It’s a matter of the utmost importance.”

He looked to his personal attendant, who nodded. Hux heaved an irritated sigh and waved off the tailor. The man departed almost silently. Hux’s attendant adjusted the leg braces, deactivated the repulsors and lowered him into his chair. The man stepped back discreetly.

The newcomer bowed again. “The matter is in regard to your order for new warships. I’m afraid there is some difficulty with…” he cleared his throat. “…payment.”

“Why bring this to me?” Hux said a waved a dismissive hand. “Take it to my Treasurer General.”

The man looked even more nervous than before. “I am your Treasurer General, Excellency. Des Avord.” He bowed again, as if to avoid Hux’s eye.

“Ah,” Hux said. He could hardly be expected to know the name and title of every lackey beneath him. He let the silence stretch until the man was squirming.

Avord finally said in a rush, “Kuat-Entralla and Sienar-Jaemus are demanding payment up-front before they’ll deliver on your order.”

Hux barely restrained himself from rolling his eyes. “So pay them.”

“The First Order doesn’t have access to that kind of liquid funds, Supreme Leader. Our past dealings with the shipbuilding corporations have been on credit.”

“Then get,” Hux said, carefully enunciating each word, “another loan.”

Avord’s throat bobbed in a swallow. “With the destruction of Hosnian Prime and the collapse of the New Republic, several of the larger banks have collapsed. Many of those remaining are in receivership and unable to underwrite or fund new loans.”

“With the destruction of the New Republic, investors surely must want a safe haven,” Hux said. “The First Order is the best investment in the galaxy.”

Avord’s gaze darted everywhere but to Hux. “The First Order is not considered a safe investment, Supreme Leader. There is widespread sentiment throughout the markets that we will default on our obligations.”

Rage gripped Hux so tightly he struggled to breathe. “Why?” he grated.

“Word of the First Order’s indebtedness and losses seems to have spread. The markets have become aware of how highly leveraged we’ve become.”

Hux didn’t care about all this financial mumbycox. His purview was the Order’s military might, using it as a blunt instrument or a surgical tool, depending on need. Snoke was the one who’d dealt with the credit counters. There had never been a need to question where the credits came from.

“Who are they to tell us ‘no?’” Hux snarled. “They’ll give us what we need, or we’ll take it.”

“It’s not so easily done, Supreme Leader. There are countless investors throughout the galaxy. We have no control over the flow of funds. The financial markets are already in turmoil. If you confiscate the funds you require, the situation will only grow worse.”

The man was actually sweating now, his knuckly hands clenching and unclenching as he stared at floor. Hux wanted to punish him for the news. Punishing him would do nothing to ensure he received accurate information in the future. He took a long breath to calm himself.

“Then we will make the alternative more unpleasant.” He waved a hand. “You may go.”

Avord bowed himself out.

Hux sat and fumed, staring at his coronation regalia. “Ren,” he snarled under his breath.

First the attacks on the syndicates, now a market panic. Step by relentless step, cutting off the First Order’s lifeblood. He couldn’t imagine how Ren could manage to sway countless investors. Perhaps, during his years with Snoke, he’d been doing more than murdering and terrorizing anyone who crossed Snoke’s will.

Hux thought once he’d seized power, everything would fall into place. He had the ships, the armies. Everything he needed, he thought, to stand astride the galaxy.

His breath choked off. He recognized the feeling—Force sorcery.

 _No. No_. Ren wasn’t here. He couldn’t reach him. This was no sorcery, only simple panic. He couldn’t afford to panic. Not when everything he’d fought and killed and suffered for was within reach. He was a strategist. He had to think. He had to be clever.

Ren wasn’t attacking him directly—only attempting to undermine and weaken him. He didn’t want to destroy the First Order, but put Hux in a position where he’d make mistakes, where he’d expose himself, make himself vulnerable.

Hux took long, slow breaths, calming himself. _Let’s turn the tables, then_ , he thought. What were Ren’s vulnerabilities? His instability. His reluctance to make bold moves. Hux hadn’t missed Ren’s distaste for the stormtrooper program. Or his efforts to dissuade Snoke from using the Starkiller weapon.

 _Supreme Leader,_ Ren had said. _I can get the map from the girl_ —

 _The girl_. Hux sat up straight. _That_ was Ren’s vulnerability. The rebel girl he’d taken instead of the droid he’d been so keen to capture a mere day before. The one he’d dragged along after the destruction of the _Supremacy_. The one he’d refused to leave behind even after Hux had overthrown him.

Hux narrowed his eyes, suddenly realizing the sheer absurdity of Kylo Ren _fleeing_ at all. He didn’t know all the man was capable of. Certainly the mere mention of his name was enough to inspire terror. But Kylo Ren, Snoke’s dreaded enforcer, had _fled_ —Hux had watched the security holos. Ren had dragged that girl to a TIE fighter and escaped with her rather than trying to fight. Rather than even _making sure his enemy was dead_.

Hux laughed aloud. Excitement burned away the choking, crushing feeling of a moment ago. He gazed on his coronation clothes with new pleasure.

“Contact the head of the Security Bureau,” he said to his attendant where he stood quietly against a wall. “Tell him I want to see him immediately.”

“Yes, Supreme Leader,” the man said and took himself away.

Hux sent his chair whirring forward to his coronation garb on the tailors’ dummies. He ran a hand down a brocade sleeve.

“Well, Ren,” he murmured. “Besotted with a girl. I never expected you to be so _common_.” He _tsked_. “Such a pity.”

The girl would bring Ren to his knees. He was beginning to get an idea of how he’d bring the galaxy to its. He’d even use a page out of Ren’s playbook to do it.

Very soon, system after system would be begging the First Order for protection.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I'm late posting this week. I decided this chapter needed to come before what happens next, but I didn't have it written yet. I hope the quality doesn't suffer from the lack of tinkering I usually do before posting a chapter.
> 
> I'm almost caught up with myself. I don't know if I can write a chapter a week, so my postings might drop off. I've been delaying this as long as possible. If I do have post less than once a week, I'll post chapters of another story I wrote called _Springtime in Hades_. I'll include the link when I post it. 
> 
> In the meantime, thank you for your lovely, supportive comments and kudos! I love reading every one of them!


	49. Bounty Hunters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Rey gets dangerous.

Kylo had known he’d have to let Rey out of his sight sooner or later. There was no need to feel so itchy and uncomfortable and distracted. He could sense her through the bond; he’d know instantly if anything was wrong. And as she frequently reminded him (and had reminded him this time, too), she could take care of herself.

Maybe it was only this environment, with pitfalls and predators she had no experience with. But no. No. She’d shown yesterday she could navigate the nobles and notables of Canto Bight as well as she did the lowlife of Jakku or Laharna. He’d do her no favors if he didn’t have confidence in her ability to handle herself here.

So now he was in one of the casino’s small salons with Belu Malnik of the recent zinbiddle game. It was an upscale version of the card dens he’d accompanied his father to from time to time: the tables for card games, smoke-hazed air, the murmur of voices and clink of coins. A serving droid tended a wet bar.

Two more of the Nightfolk, Stone and Hunter, lurked with Kreet by the door. Malnik’s “gentleman’s club” hadn’t wanted to let them in. Since it was either Ben Organa and his bodyguard, or no Ben Organa at all, they finally consented. Kylo took great pleasure in the irony of “bodyguards” who were actually there to prey on their fears.

The "gentlemen" seemed to be more coddled, wastrel sons. Judging from the thoughts he picked up, they were looking forward to fleecing an aristo. Too bad for them they hadn’t remembered his scoundrel of a father.

After the usual introductions, Malnik said. “Are you up for a game of sabacc? Oh.” He looked somewhere between concerned and embarrassed. What Kylo _sensed_ from him was smugness. “Excuse me. Do you know the game?”

“I’ve played it,” Kylo said.

Han Solo had made _very_ sure Ben knew how to play sabacc. _Made my fortune with sabacc_ , _kid_ , he’d said. Ben had known the tale of how his father had acquired the _Millennium Falcon_ as for as long as he remembered.

“Good!” Malnik rubbed his hands together. “Let’s get started, then.”

Malnik, Kylo and two other men settled at a table. One of the other men began to deal.

“Your betrothed is a lovely girl,” Malnik said with a smirk. “ _Lady_ Rey. Is she also Alderaanian?”

Kylo resisted the urge to Force-choke the man for that smirk as he spoke about Rey. He deliberately avoided skimming his thoughts. If they were anything like the smirk indicated, he wouldn’t be _able_ to resist.

“Her family were technocrats from the Anoat Sector,” Kylo said. Rey didn’t have a history, so he’d give her one that fit her. For all anyone knew, some grandparent might’ve been someone of importance, left stranded on Jakku when the great ships fell. “The aftermath of the Galactic Civil War left them in reduced circumstances.”

“Much like yourself, I suppose,” Malnik said.

Kylo didn’t bother answering. He wouldn’t justify himself or Alderaan to this man.

One of the other players, a good-looking man a little younger than Kylo, apparently decided to get in on the sport.

With a crooked grin that set Kylo’s teeth on edge, he said, “So you’re the famous Lost Prince of Alderaan. What were you doing while you were lost?”

“Training,” Kylo said shortly.

The man gave an ill-disguised snort. “For what?”

Kylo only stared at him. He made no attempt to rein in the darkness that seethed in him, letting it bleed out into the Force. The man met his gaze. His cocky grin faded and he slowly paled. Coughing, he broke from Kylo’s gaze.

Satisfied, Kylo returned his attention to his cards. “Sixteen.”

He touched the thoughts of the other players, sensing for cheats. He _hoped_ someone tried to cheat. It would give him great pleasure to make sure they were the ones to cover the cost of this little jaunt to Canto Bight.

* * *

Visiting the casino without Kylo’s imposing figure beside her was a much less conspicuous experience. With no one gravitating over to gawp or fawn or maneuver, Rey could people-watch at leisure as she played the machines. She _did_ sometimes sense attention or catch a curious glance at her.

Once, the attention felt intense.

She stopped and scanned the beings around her. Most were gathered around the uvide table. A group of older women with elaborate headdresses or more elaborate hairdos stood in close conversation. A couple glided arm-in-arm through the throngs. The sensation abruptly disappeared. Rey stood a moment longer, watching, sensing, but saw nothing to concern her. She turned back to the machine she was playing.

She liked the gaming machines best. She loved watching the reels spin, their whirring and astromech-like beeps and boops, even if the machines ate her coins more often than they regurgitated them.

What she loved best of all was trying the cafés scattered around the casino. All she had to do was present her hotel key card and she could have _anything she wanted to eat_. Never in her life had she imagined such luxury existed.

She had fruit presented in fancy patterns and drizzled with yoghurt. She sampled airy pastries with rich, fluffy fillings. She tried spiced meat and pickled vegetables rolled in flatbread and served with dipping sauces, taking her time to savor each.

Kylo didn’t seem to be in any hurry. When she touched him through the bond, she sensed irritation, sometimes triumph, often focus—probably on whatever game he was playing. He’d find her when he was ready. She might venture into Old Town to visit the shops until he did.

It seemed like a good idea to find the ‘fresher first. She stopped a serving droid to ask where one was.

“The ladies’ retiring room is between Lillay’s Café and the recharging station,” the droid said. “Shall I escort you?”

 _Retiring room?_ Rey thought. “No, I can find it. Thanks.”

She set off across the casino.

Retiring _room_ was an understatement—it actually consisted of _rooms_. ‘Freshers behind painted doors, a dressing room with holoprojectors to display the viewer from all angles, a makeup room with counters below brightly-lit mirrors, a lounge sporting comfortable chairs, delicate tables and shaded lamps where women sat and chatted. On a couch, one large woman in a sequined black and silver dress appeared to be taking a nap.

Rey tried to look around without goggling.

“Ohmystars!” a girl’s voice said, cutting through the quiet murmurs. “It’s _you!_ _You’re_ the girl who escaped _Kylo Ren!”_

Rey turned slowly. A girl about her own age with wild corkscrews of bright gold hair stared at her with wide eyes. Silence fell among the chatting women and Rey found herself the center of all attention in the room. Several women came from the dressing room to look, too.

Rey’s face went hot. “Um…yeah. That’s me.”

The girl came closer, clasping her hands and bouncing in excitement. “Is it true he’s as big as a Wookie? Does he really have a giant red sword?”

The younger women in the room giggled.

Rey swallowed a laugh. “Not as big as a Wookie, no. I don’t know about the sword,” she lied, thinking of Kylo’s lightsaber in the biohexacrypted safe in their rooms.

“Tell us what happened, please!” the girl said. “It must’ve been _such_ an adventure. I’m dying to hear!”

“Some adventures are better not to’ve had,” Rey said. “Believe me.”

“Was he very terrifying? What did he _do_ with you?”

More giggles came in response to that.

Rey sighed. She was beginning to get an idea of what the women _thought_ had happened. Ironically, it was pretty close to the truth. Of course, the women didn’t know that. She suddenly understood why Kylo hated being the center of attention.

She didn’t know the rules here. It seemed better to just go along. She couldn’t get in too much trouble that way.

“Yes, he was terrifying,” Rey said. “And huge. Huge and terrifying.” She was babbling, but the women listened, rapt. “He chased me through some woods and paralyzed me with the Force.”

“Why was he chasing you?” the blonde said.

“He kept asking about some map,” Rey said, shrugging. “I don’t know, maybe he thought I was someone else. He knocked me out with the Force. When I woke up, I was his prisoner.”

 _Ooohs!_ and _aaahhs!_ and more giggles sounded around the room. Rey struggled not to roll her eyes.

The blond girl frowned at the other women. “Come on.” She grabbed Rey’s hand. “Let’s go in here where there isn’t such an _audience_.”

Rey gently but firmly pulled her hand free but followed the girl into the room with all the mirrors. It reminded her uncomfortably of Ahch-To’s mirror cave, with its taunting visions and vague menace.

* * *

By the salon door, the Nightfolk spun. A blaze of wordless alarm came from them. Kylo whipped around. Kreet made a sound he’d never heard before, something between a hiss and a screech and launched himself off Stone’s shoulder. Hunter flung open the door and they were out, the speed of their movements shocking. One of them sent an image into Kylo’s mind: an exploding supernova of light.

 _Rey_.

Kylo reached for her through the bond but felt only a sort of resigned annoyance and embarrassed amusement. Yet something had alerted the Nightfolk.

Kreet leapt again, this time to Kylo’s shoulder. He barely heard the angry and revolted exclamations from the other men at the table through Kreet’s frantic, enraged chitters, the hands on Kylo’s back pushing, the hands on his chest pulling.

Kylo lunged to his feet. The table toppled, sending coins and cards and drinks flying. Ignoring the outraged shouts of the three other men, he bolted after the Nightfolk.

* * *

The girl plopped down in front of one of the mirrors and began poking at her wild hair. Several of the younger women from the lounge made their way in and sat down, ostensibly repairing makeup and hairdos. Rey could feel their avid attention, though. One of them didn’t bother pretending. She just sat, clasped her hands on her knees and looked eagerly at Rey, waiting for the story to continue.

The blonde took out pins, letting corkscrews of hair fall down her back. She met Rey’s eyes in the mirror. “So how did you escape?”

Standing in the middle of all those curious faces, Rey felt like a performer in some kind of show.

 _This is the idea, right?_ she told herself. _Attract attention so they’ll believe what else we have to say_.

Instinct buzzed at the back of her mind, though: _keep your head down. Blend in. Attracting attention isn’t safe_.

Too late for that—that ship had already flown, when she decided to take the pressure off Kylo. She’d just have to deal with the results now.

Rey crossed to a chair and sat next to the girl. It made her feel less like a spectacle and more like she was just talking to someone. The girl opened a little handbag and took out a small spray bottle that glittered in the bright lights. Fluffing her hair, she sprayed it. With a whiff of perfume, the glitter settled on her hair, sparkling. Rey couldn’t help but be intrigued.

She took a deep breath. “Well, he was interrogating me.”

Eyes grew wide all around.

“It wasn’t fun. You do _not_ want to be interrogated by Kylo Ren,” she said. “Anyway, he got called away in the middle.”

More like _scared_ away, the way Kylo told it.

The blonde leaned forward, the bottle of sparkly spray in her hand forgotten. “And then?”

“I was crying by then. I was scared, and having someone dig around in your head _hurts_. The stormtrooper they left to guard me came over and loosened my restraints. I was afraid of what he planned to do, but he left, too. I don’t know if he also got called away, or if he felt sorry for me and was giving me a chance to get away.”

“And that’s when the Resistance rescued you!” The girl clapped her hands in excitement.

The bottle still in her hand squirted a puff of spray right in Rey’s face.

Rey coughed, then sneezed at the strong odor, blinking at the dazzle of glitter on her eyelashes. The warning buzz at the back of her mind started screaming real alarms now. She pushed to her feet.

The girl dropped the spray and waved her hands in Rey’s face as if to brush off the glitter that now dusted it. “Ohmystars! I am so sorry! Wait—”

Rey’s head spun. Cold alarm spurted through her.

The girl ducked down and rummaged under the counter, coming back up with a handful of tissues, babbling apologies the whole time. The voices of the other women in the room receded to an echoing hum. Rey staggered backwards.

The blond girl followed with her tissues, her face creased with worry. “Are you all right?”

“What did you do?” Rey demanded. The words came out in an unintelligible slur. Her legs buckled, dumping her on the carpeted floor.

* * *

Alarm and anger and fear came though the bond. Kylo ran through the crowded casino. A large Bothan male stepped in his path. Kylo shoved past, ignoring the Bothan’s snarled commands. Ahead, the Nightfolk slipped through the milling people, the dread they emanated scything through everyone in front of them. Kylo squeezed past with more effort. The hassash on his shoulder hissed threateningly, darting its clawed hands at anyone who didn’t get out of the way fast enough.

 _Not again!_ he thought, remembering the last time he’d had to chase after Rey, on Laharna. _This can’t happen again!_

As the Nightfolk got farther ahead, he just started shoving his way through, shouts and curses be damned.

* * *

The girl’s face swam in Rey’s vision. “Help!” the girl cried. “Help, she fainted!”

 _Not again!_ Rey thought. _Not this time!_

Hands were on her, touching her face, her arms. Voices all around her mumbled, indistinct and echoing.

She tried to push away the hands, to get up, to move, but her limbs lay slack and unresponsive. She reached for the Force, gripping it with all the strength of her anger to cling to consciousness.

“I’m a physician,” a woman’s firm voice said, echoing as if down a wrecked ship’s corridor. “Let me see her. Call emergency services.”

Darkness tunneled in on her, sucking her down. Furious and frightened, Rey let go, let her awareness slip into the Force.

From somewhere outside herself, she observed the scene. She lay on the floor in the middle of a circle of whispering, exclaiming women. The blond girl stood wringing her hands as an older woman in a severe black dress peeled back Rey’s eyelids and checked her pulse.

Even floating in the Force, she couldn’t hear thoughts the way Kylo could, but she sensed emotions clearly enough: fear and dismay and curiosity from the onlookers; cold concentration on business in the older woman; soaring triumph from the girl.

Two men dressed in the blue and yellow of emergency responders hurried into the room with a repulsor gurney. The circle of women parted to let them through. With smooth, practiced movements, the men lifted Rey’s inert body onto the gurney—no emotion, no concern, just picking up a package, strapping it down for delivery. The older woman exchanged looks with the girl and nodded, then they both followed the gurney.

Rey saw all she needed to see. Reaching out through the Force, she _squeezed_.

* * *

Screaming erupted from somewhere beyond the crowds in front of Kylo. People at the gaming tables turned, staring. Shrieking women boiled through a door past the gaming machines.

A wave of darkness rose in the Force, marked by Rey’s unmistakable signature.

Cold fear burst through him. Another screaming woman burst through the door. Kylo shoved through after her, into a ladies’ lounge.

His eyes went straight to Rey, lying unconscious on a repulsor gurney. Unconscious, but her presence in the Force was aware, dark and enraged. And very, very dangerous.

Around the gurney, two men and two women stood stiff, their eyes and mouths wide with terror, their faces various shades of blue and purple. The Nightfolk stood protectively between them and Rey, darkside energy seething around them.

Kylo lunged for Rey. Glitter dusted her face— _glitter?_ Some drug? An attempted kidnapping? The hassash jumped from his shoulder to the floor, circling the gurney with a hissing growl.

Smoothing Rey’s hair, Kylo bent close. “I’m here, Rey. Let them go,” he whispered. “You’re with me, you’re safe. Let them go, sweetheart.”

Rey’s grip on the Force abruptly vanished. The four who’d been being Force-crushed collapsed to the floor, heaving loud, ragged breaths. One, a girl who couldn’t be any older than Rey, scrambled away from the hassash with little gasping shrieks. The two Nightfolk closed in. Kylo felt fear spiral upward.

“Hold them,” he told the Nightfolk. “We’ll find out what happened.”

Casino security burst into the room, a big, bald Ongidae with the typical flat nose and overhanging brow, the burly Bothan Kylo had shoved past, and a human man Kylo’s size. The Nightfolk moved to stay close as the two men and the older woman staggered to their feet. The blond girl remained on the floor, weeping great, gulping sobs.

“What’s going on here?” the Ongidae barked.

Kylo kept a hand on Rey’s shoulder. “They’ve drugged my betrothed,” he said in the imperious voice his mother had used to silence rooms. “They attempted to abduct her.”

It had the desired effect now. The security agents straightened, eyeing him with more respect.

“You’re insane,” the older woman gasped. “I’m a physician. You’re welcome to inspect my credentials. The girl collapsed. I called emergency services and tended to her until they arrived.”

The blonde raised a tear-streaked face. “I-I-I was only trying to h-h-help!”

Kylo leveled a look on her. The girl paled and shrank back.

“Call the physician on duty _now_ ,” Kylo told the security officers. He flicked a dismissive gesture at the four. “I’ll question these myself later.”

Objections and protests swelled. With a glance at the still-unconscious Rey, the Ongidae spoke into a comm disguised as a lapel pin, calling for medical.

“Sir,” the Ongidae said. “This is an official matter. The Canto Bight police will handle the investigation. You will also need to submit to questioning. Your betrothed, too, when she’s able.”

Kylo bristled, but only said, “Fine. But my bodyguards are telepaths. They will participate in the interrogation.”

In the dreadful silence that fell in the room, the Nightfolk said, _They call themselves Crymorah. The young one sprayed a drug in Rey’s face. The others were to help take her away._

Even as fear rose like a cold fog, the four feigned confusion and outrage while the girl cried and babbled that she was only trying to help. Oh, they were good. Exactly what he’d expect from syndicate operatives.

Kylo raked them with his gaze. The babbling and protesting fell silent.

“Why did they try to take Rey?” Kylo asked the Nightfolk. He already knew exactly why.

 _They hunt Kylo Ren for a bounty_ , they answered. _Kylo Ren captured Rey. They intended to explore her connection to him._

He turned to the security team. “Gentlemen, do you know how the cartels ‘explore’ things with people who interest them? Because I do. Shall I tell you?”

The human bouncer looked down at Rey where she lay strapped to the gurney and swallowed hard.

He should’ve let her kill them. Let casino security walk in on four people slowly being crushed to death by no apparent mechanism. Kylo breathed hard, his fingers flexing even as he resisted reaching for the Force.

The door abruptly swung open. A tall, elegant, white-haired man with a medpac bustled in, two emergency responders hurrying behind. Kylo skimmed their thoughts. They were the real thing.

“Doctor Helvanen will see to your lady, sir,” the Ongidae security chief said.

The physician gently tried to edge Kylo away.

Kylo’s hand tightened on Rey’s shoulder. “I stay with her.”

The physician eyed him impatiently, then seemed to take his measure. “Of course, sir. This has been a terrible fright, I’m certain.”

Kylo raised a black gaze to the security chief. “My people go with you. I don’t want any mistakes.”

The Ongidae looked ready to argue.

Ben Organa might not have Kylo Ren’s reputation. He might not wear Kylo Ren’s mask. But the dark side was still with him, and at this moment, the dark side heaved and seethed and spat like an erupting volcano. And just as people had been afraid of young Ben Solo, with his intensity and the vaguely ominous aura that surrounded him, every person in this room was afraid of him now.

The security chief bowed his head. “As you wish, sir. We’ll be taking them to the Canto Bight Detention Center. I’m Pemmin Brunce, head of casino security. I await your convenience at any time.”

 _Stay with them_ , Kylo privately told the Nightfolk. _If it comes to it, they’re yours. Just find out everything they know first_.

 _Yes, brother_ , Hunter said and hesitated. _The Bright-one—she is not Bright now. Has she joined us?_

Kylo’s lips twitched. Rey would be appalled. Or maybe she wouldn’t. The Force was just the Force to her—light and dark were both simply part of it.

 _She joins us when she needs to_ , he explained.

 _She is powerful in the Night_ , Stone said.

 _Yes_ , Kylo responded proudly. _She is_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's possible I may have to skip posting a new chapter next week-- it depends on how much writing I get done this weekend. Just in case, I'm posting the first chapter of a new story, [_Springtime in Hades_](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17750354/chapters/41881313), to tide you over. It's much, MUCH shorter than this one. I hope you enjoy it.


	50. Hunting Vermin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Kylo really, really wants to do murder.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **KYLO REN ALERT!** He almost loses it this time. Canon-typical violence.

Rey woke with a gasp, reaching for the Force before she even opened her eyes. Something blocked her, pushed her back into herself. She struggled against it, panicking. A hand tightened on hers.

“I’m here,” Kylo said. “You’re safe.”

Her eyes popped open and her gaze jumped to him where he sat by her bedside. He held her hand in his bare one. Fear snaked through her, squeezing her chest. She tried to pull away, but he wouldn’t let her.

“It’s all right,” he said gently. “You kept trying to reach for the Force while you were unconscious. I had to restrain you.” His thumb stroked her knuckles. “That’s why you’re afraid now. That and what happened. You’re safe,” he said again. “There’s nothing to be afraid of.”

She didn’t feel safe. She felt trapped. Suffocated. Like she needed to run. Her breathing picked up, making her dizzy. Everything around her turned bright and sharp-edged.

She was obviously in a medbay—biosigns monitors and the railed bed she lay in gave it away—but its paintings of flowers on the walls, upholstered chairs and pastel-hued draperies were nothing like any medbay she’d seen before.

Calm and comfort flowed through the bond. Kylo kept talking quietly. “It’s a bad day when a darksider has to keep a lightsider from killing innocents.”

That got her attention. “What did I do?”

“What do you remember?”

Rey frowned. “That blond girl sprayed something in my face. Some drug. I tried to keep from going unconscious and I…” She darted a troubled look at him. “I was outside myself somehow. I could see what they were doing. So I stopped them.”

“You also tried to stop the doctor when he examined you,” Kylo said. “You tried to stop the medical droids from undressing you, moving you to the bed, then removing the residue of the drug from your skin. You tried to stop the tech from taking blood for testing. And when they injected you with the antidote.”

“Oh,” she said in small voice.

Kylo shook his head. “You’ve confused the Nightfolk. They were sure you’d turned. I don’t think even Vader ever Force-choked four people at once.”

She sat up straight. The biosigns monitor began beeping wildly. Her head spun—she put her hands down to brace and steady herself. “Don’t joke! It isn’t funny! Four times, Ben! _Four!_ What is it with me and kidnapping?”

“You can’t count the first two. That was me. This time you stopped it. So actually, you were only kidnapped once.”

This was not at all the Kylo Ren she knew, who’d apparently leveled Laharna Spaceport and had been ready to murder that twak flirting with her on the street. She suspected he was deliberately downplaying the incident to calm her. She thought about getting mad instead, then decided his tactic was actually working—the frantic beating of her heart slowed and the tension in her muscles eased.

“I don’t know how I did,” she said. “I only knew I didn’t dare lose consciousness.”

“You maintained a form of consciousness in the Force,” Kylo said. “You felt outside yourself because your awareness had moved into the Force.”

She perked up. “That’s what happened to you when you were shot, wasn’t it? I could sense your awareness. But it wasn’t _you_ —it was just all dark side. Verrannallu said you were very dangerous.”

“I was. If I didn’t trust you, I would’ve killed you—you, and anyone else who touched me. You’d’ve done the same—”

Kylo broke off. Surprise crossed his face, then fury.

He shot to his feet. “Stay here.”

“What—?”

“The ones who tried to take you—they’ve escaped. The Nightfolk are after them.” He turned one of his burning looks on her. “ _Stay here_ ,” he said, then he was out the door.

* * *

Kylo ran out of the medcenter into the brightly-lit street. Speeders hummed past. He thrust out a hand, brought one to a lurching halt. He darted to it, jerked open the door and threw himself into the passenger seat. The shocked and outraged driver shouted.

Kylo silenced him with a gesture and the Force. “ _Drive_.”

The man turned forward and obeyed, guiding the speeder back into traffic.

“ _Faster_ ,” Kylo hissed.

The driver made a strangled sound and quivered but pushed the speeder faster, weaving through traffic. Proximity alarms screeched from the control panel as other speeders careened out of the way.

Kylo reached out for the Nightfolk. Impressions streamed into his mind: darkened, winding streets, the squat, unadorned shapes of utilitarian buildings, the sounds of running footsteps, panting breaths, echoing voices. The scent of fear, the excitement of the hunt.

“ _Turn here_ ,” Kylo commanded.

The suddenness of the turn slung him against the passenger door. Following his sense of the Nightfolk, he directed the driver past the clean lines and bright lights of Canto Bight’s modern section, through the noble buildings and cobbled streets of Old Town, to the back streets and plain fronts of the service sector.

Blaster fire streaked across an intersection ahead.

“Stop!” Kylo barked.

The driver threw the repulsors into reverse. Kylo braced a hand as momentum sent him lurching forward, shoved open the door and jumped out before the speeder had fully stopped, stumbling before catching his balance.

He reached a hand toward the speeder’s driver. “ _You will forget me_.” He reached into the man’s mind, plucked out the memories and commanded, “ _Go_.”

He didn’t wait to see what the man did, only turned and ran toward the sounds of screams and blaster fire echoing up the street.

He felt panic shivering through the Force, first. He burst past the walls hemming the street to find the air in front of him stitched with blaster fire.

The Nightfolk moved through the shadows like hunting predators. Darkside energy whipped out from them, wrapped the minds of the gangsters, four dimly-lit figures gasping and crying and stumbling as they tried to escape the terror of their own minds. Their shots went wild, slamming into walls, the street, streaking high overhead, the gangsters too panicked to aim. In the red flashes of light, Kylo saw the children.

They were huddled in the street, trying to make themselves as small as possible.

Without conscious thought, Kylo reached out a hand and stopped the blaster bolts. More came, and more. He stopped those, too, leaving a red, glowing net of energy humming and crackling in the air. He seized more bolts, sent a frantic command to the Nightfolk: _Stop!_

Their reaching, hungry minds furled back in. The two men and two women who’d tried to kidnap Rey suddenly found the ability to run again. Three of them ran away. The fourth, the blond girl, darted the other way, toward the children.

Kylo had milliseconds to make a decision: the blaster bolts or the fleeing gangsters. The instant he released those blaster bolts, some would hit the children.

He thrust outward with the Force. The sizzling bolts of energy flew away, pounded into the wall opposite. The next instant, he reached out with the Force and froze the gangsters.

It was an instant too late. Before Kylo could stop her, the blond girl had grabbed one of the children and dragged him backwards. Now she held him, a dark-skinned boy with wide, terrified eyes, the muzzle of the blaster in her hand pressed against the side of the boy’s head.

It was too close, too precarious. He held the girl paralyzed, but Force paralysis wasn’t complete. Hearts still pumped, lungs still filled. Tiny muscle movements were still possible. If he tried to Force-pull the blaster out of her hand, or the boy out of her hold, her finger might twitch on the trigger. It was a standoff, and all the risk was to the boy.

Snarling in frustration, Kylo did the only thing he could—he released the gangsters.

The girl grinned, a savage expression on such a young, pretty face. “Looks like we found Kylo Ren after all. Good choice, Ren. Even though I wouldn’t have expected it.” Without taking her eyes off Kylo, she called to the other three, “Get the speeder.”

They ran off. She began backing away, dragging the frightened boy with her.

Kylo breathed hard, his fists clenching and unclenching. He was only peripherally aware of the other two children, another boy and a girl. The Nightfolk drifted closer. Suddenly, the Force rippled.

The blonde girl whipped around as if someone had come up and nudged her from behind. Her blaster swung to the new—nonexistent—threat. At the edge of his vision, Kylo saw the other boy, his eyes narrowed, his hand outstretched. Realization hit him— _the boy had used the Force to distract the blonde_.

Reaching with the Force himself, Kylo snatched the blaster from her hand. She gave a shriek of frustrated fury and spun to run. He stopped her.

This was the one who’d drugged Rey. Who’d lulled her, drawn her in. Who’d have happily turned her over for torture and more.

He stalked toward her, the familiar rage building like a black storm. Her eyes widened as he approached. Fear bled into the Force.

Kylo raised a hand, fingers crooked. “You should never have touched Rey.”

The blonde made a strangled sound, but he held her so tightly she couldn’t raise her hands to claw at her throat. _Good_. Let her die as helpless and afraid as she’d made Rey.

The girl’s mouth gaped. Her lips turned blue, then her skin began to grey. Her eyes rolled back. Kylo loosened his grip enough to keep her conscious. He’d crush her throat and vertebrae with great satisfaction, but he wanted her to know she was going to die, and die in terror and pain.

The Nightfolk drifted to him, six of them, their yellow eyes intent on the blond girl. _Let us have her, brother_ , Stone whispered into his mind. _It will take as long as you like_.

The words broke in on his killing rage. “No.”

He released his hold on the girl. She collapsed in a heap on the ground, but immediately started trying to scramble away. With a flick of his fingers, Kylo pushed her into unconsciousness. She went limp, sprawled in the street.

“Stone, Hunter, Silence,” he said. “Get the other three.”

The three Nightfolk darted off down the street.

The children stood clutching each other. Their eyes were as wide as the blonde’s had been.

Kylo Ren wouldn’t have cared. But he wasn’t Kylo Ren here. He was Ben Organa, and Ben Organa couldn’t do murder on a Canto Bight back street in front of witnesses—no matter how much someone might deserve it.

He didn’t want to leave the children—especially when one was Force-sensitive. But he had to get those other three gangsters—  

 _Go_ , a voice whispered into his mind.

Echo, the youngest and most sensitive of the Nightfolk, met his gaze as he looked up.

 _I will watch over the young ones_ , she said _. Go_.

She moved to the children. Kylo felt her coiling in all her darkside energy so she was only a tall, grey-robed alien with long ropes of black hair. The children looked up at her.

He struggled to quiet his own dark impulses. “This is Echo,” he said as gently as he could while part of him strained to _get them_. “She’ll stay with you. You’ll be safe with her.”

He didn’t wait for their response, just raised his head and reached out with his senses for the three who’d fled.

He touched Rey.

Fury boiled up again. What was she _doing_ here? In fact, how did she get here?

 _It’s Rey_ , he thought with exasperation as he launched into a run. _Of course_ she was here. He should be surprised if she wasn’t.

Walls and doorways slipped past, the surprised faces of the occasional onlooker.

Ahead, he sensed a pulse in the Force. A moment later, the sound of shouts echoed along the street. He skidded around a corner and stumbled to a stop.

Rey stood in the middle of the street, one hand upraised, the light behind her haloing her. The look on her face was the one he’d seen when she struck him down in Starkiller’s forest.

The three Nightfolk stood looking up. His gaze followed theirs, up, up, to the speeder that hung some six meters in the air, almost at rooftop level of the surrounding buildings. One of the men inside was cursing, the woman screaming. Leaning over the edge, the second man aimed a blaster downward. Kylo reached out and snatched it away.

Rey’s attention shifted to him. Her deadly look turned to a fierce grin. “Look, Ben! The repulsors in their speeder malfunctioned!”

He choked on an unexpected laugh.

“What should we do?” she said.

What they _should_ do and what he _wanted_ to do were two completely different things.

The distant bleating of sirens echoed between the walls. The earlier commotion had probably already alerted the police.

“Let them down,” he said. “We’ll hold them until the police get here.”

Rey cocked her head and made a show of studying the speeder and its shouting occupants. “Okay.”

She released the speeder. It dropped, and the shouts turned to screams. She caught it again just before it hit the pavement. The screams abruptly stopped.

For an instant, Kylo thought the fall might’ve killed them—but no.

“ _You won’t move until ordered to do so_ ,” Kylo commanded.

The three froze, even the looks of shock and fear on their faces.

Rey’s gaze fastened on something behind him. He spun to see the three children come pelting around the corner. Echo was close on their heels. The other two Nightfolk came behind her, Star carrying the blonde over his shoulders like a sack. The children stumbled to a stop, taking in the scene in front of them.

“What—?” Kylo rumbled, but sirens drowned him out, the echoes so loud it was hard to tell where they were coming from. He tossed down the blaster he’d pulled from the gangsters.

Another moment and three police jet-speeders zipped into view, then came to a banking halt. The sirens fell silent, but the flash and glare of police lights filled the street. Rey moved to stand beside him, the Force crackling around her like a thunderstorm.

Uniformed officers climbed off their speeders.

Kylo gestured to the gangsters frozen in their speeder, to the still-unconscious blonde on the street. “Your escaped prisoners.”

The police eyed the scene, their hands hovering near their blasters. “All of you,” one ordered. “Hands where we can see them.”

Kylo knew exactly how this would go, how suspicious it all looked.

They were _not_ going to arrest him. They definitely weren’t going to lay hands on Rey. He ground his teeth at the thought of them grabbing her, snapping binders on her wrists. No one would ever do that again.

The dark side throbbed and pulsed around him. Now, at this moment, he was Kylo Ren again.

“I want to know why,” he said with real menace, “the people who assaulted and attempted to abduct my betrothed only hours ago are free. I want to know where they found the blasters they used to fire at my bodyguards.” He took an aggressive step toward the officers. “I want to know why _children_ were almost killed.”

The officers’ eyes darted to the children behind him. One of the officers started talking into his wrist comlink. Whatever response he got made his eyes go round.

“Sir,” one of the other officers said, “we’ll need you and your party to accompany us—”

“We aren’t going anywhere,” Kylo growled.

He sensed curiosity from unseen bystanders nearby. A couple more police jet-speeders arrived, and one enclosed speeder. More uniformed officers joined the first three.

He swung his attention to the gangsters. “ _Tell them what you did_.”

They all babbled at once, and everything spilled out—a payoff, the cell door conveniently left open, blasters left out. The realization that the kriffing aliens were behind them, following them. Shooting at them, kids were in the way—too bad. They had to get away.

“Enough.” He didn’t want any mention of his abilities—or Rey’s.

The Force vibrated with the officers’ and the gangsters’ alarm and fear—a feast for the Nightfolk.

The commanding officer began babbling apologies. “The proper authorities will get to the bottom of all this, sir. I’ve requested a meeting with the chief of police and the mayor. The Canto Bight Police Department prides itself in enforcing a safe, comfortable, respectful experience for guests. We’re shocked and horrified that something like this could happen.”

Rey, arms folded, eyes narrowed, had been listening quietly. “And the kids?”

“We’ll make sure they’re returned safely home, ma’am,” said one of the other officers.

Rey’s eyes narrowed even more. Unfolding her arms and smoothing her face, she turned to the children. “Who do you work for?” she asked in a kind voice.

The children looked at each other as if wondering if they should answer. Some communication seemed to pass between them.

“Bargwill Tomder,” the little redheaded girl said in a small voice. “He’s the groom at the racetrack.”

Not, _who are your parents_ , but _who do you work for_. Rey nodded as if she expected the answer. Of course she did. She’d looked at the children in their shabby, too-large clothes and quickly sized them up. 

All the police officers looked distinctly uncomfortable. The commander cleared his throat. “No need to worry, ma’am. We’ll take care of them.”

Rey shot him a look. He shut up fast.

She turned back to the children and smiled. “Where do you live?”

The children seemed to sense an ally. More than an ally, Kylo thought. She’d been like them not that long ago.

“The fathier stables, lady,” the dark-skinned boy said.

Kylo watched the second boy, the one who’d used the Force. He was shorter than the other two, with a round, open face. His gaze flicked back and forth between Kylo and Rey. Kylo sensed barely restrained excitement, not only from the boy but from his friends, too.

It occurred to him that the children could’ve stayed with Echo, even tried to run away. Instead, _they’d followed him_. They’d seen what he’d done with the Force, and they followed.

His memory of Rey-as-a-child returned, her grimy face, the worn clothes too big for her small, thin frame. Rage seethed up. Children shouldn’t be forced to live this way, owned like animals.

“Criminals bribing their way out of lockup," he said. "Children kept as _slaves_.” That strained edge had crept into his voice.

Rey looked over at him and soothing calm came through the bond. He found his shoulders hunched, his fists clenched, the dark side roiling around him.

Deliberately, he straightened. “I wonder what would happen if everyone knew. What it would do for business here.”

The police didn’t dare say a word. With an effort, Kylo calmed and centered himself. He couldn’t frighten the children.

He turned to them. “What’re your names?”

The girl and the dark-skinned boy turned to the other boy. “Temiri, sir,” he said. “Temiri Blagg.” He took the girl’s hand, put a hand on the other boy’s shoulder. “These are my friends, Arashell and Oniho.”

Kylo bent his head. “I’m Ben, and this is Rey.” He took Rey’s hand. He didn’t have much experience with children; he wasn’t sure how to talk to them. Then he remembered talking to Rey through the bond when she was little. He’d seemed to know how to talk to her then. “Would you like to come with us? Fly away on a ship?”

Rey whipped around to stare at him and gripped his hand almost painfully. He felt a leap of joy and excitement from her.

“Sir,” the police commander said. “You can’t just—”

“Take these children?” Kylo broke in, a twist of surprise and disbelief in his voice. “No. I’m sure we can reach an agreement with their _owner_.” He snarled the last word.

“Will you show me what you do?” Temiri blurted out, then shut his mouth tight.

“Yes,” Kylo said and met Rey’s eyes. The love and admiration he saw there sent a warmth through him that was almost painful. “We both will.”

Temiri looked at his two friends. “I’ll come if Arashell and Oniho can come too.”

The girl and the other boy nodded excitedly.

“I think we can find room for all of you,” Kylo said.

Rey positively glowed.

Kylo turned back to the gangsters still frozen in the speeder, the blonde lying like discarded trash in the street. He badly wanted to kill them. But not here. Not now. None of them would be around much longer, though.

He said to the police commander, “My bodyguards will accompany _these_.” He flicked a contemptuous glance at the gangsters. “Make sure they stay where they belong. _This time_.”

The commander straightened nervously the way anyone in the First Order addressing him would. “I’ll see to it personally, sir.”

He leveled a stare on the man. “We’ll accept that meeting with the chief of police and the mayor. There are some things I want to discuss.”


	51. Homecomings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the Resistance gets a surprise, and Luke confronts the past.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hate to do this to you, but there's no Kylo 'n Rey in this chapter. I try hard not to let that happen, but these were a couple of long scenes and they filled up a chapter. I promise our two favorite people in a galaxy far, far away will be back next week.
> 
> A quick reminder-- Luke didn't die in this story's version of events.

Unofficially, Rose was in charge of the mission to Hays Minor. It was a strange feeling to tell two superior officers what to do, but it made sense. Rose knew the territory and the people. It made sense to start recruiting on Hays Minor. There were plenty who hated the First Order, and most of them had nothing left to lose.

Rose had Poe land the shuttle on the other side of the bombing range, behind the compression ridge. It was where they’d always rendezvoused with supply ships when she and Paige were still in Hays Minor’s underground. Anyone who saw a ship landing there now would know it was friendly.

They’d taken their oldest, most decrepit shuttle—which was really saying something. None of their shuttles were much. But they were all spaceworthy, and that was what mattered.

They walked out onto shattered, barren ground littered with molten glass from the bombings, solidified into grey and brown and black globules. She, Poe and Kaydel were all dressed as Haysians—battered boots, earflap hats, parkas that had seen better days.

Rose looked around, her throat tightening. Memories rushed over her. Most included Paige. She’d known coming home would be hard; she hadn’t expected it to be this hard.

Kaydel gripped her shoulder. “Okay, Rosie?”

Rose nodded hard. “I’m good.” She knew neither Poe nor Kaydel believed her, but they were kind and confident enough in her not to call her on it. “Let’s go.”

They clambered around the foot of the compression ridge, sliding on broken ground.

“Okay,” Rose said. “When we reach the bombing range, follow my lead. Don’t lag too far back, and don’t step anywhere I don’t. There’s tons of unexploded ordnance. The place is sort of a ready-made minefield.” She looked back over her shoulder at Poe and Kaydel. “Got it?”

Both nodded. Rose nodded back and stepped around a heaved slab of rock.

“Uh, Rose?” Poe looked past her and scratched his jaw. “I don’t think there’s any more unexploded ordnance.”

Raising her eyes from the ground in front of her feet, Rose stopped dead.

The bombing range was a wilderness of craters and churned earth. The air still reeked of explosives and torn dirt. Rose just stared, wondering what had happened, whether this was a good thing—

Or very, very bad.

“Rose!” Kaydel hissed and pulled her back into the shadow of the rock.

As she stumbled backward, Rose caught a glimpse of a figure in dark, bulky clothing hurrying toward them. Moving in front of Rose and Kaydel, Poe pressed his back to the rock behind him and pulled his blaster.

Rose clawed past him. “Poe, no! Let me handle this.” She shoved him back.

She could tell he didn’t like it, but these were her people. She didn’t want anyone dying because of a misunderstanding.

The sound of grating, sliding footsteps came. Someone’s panting breaths—a woman’s, it sounded like. Rose tensed. Poe crowded behind her, close enough she could feel him tensing. She waved a frantic hand, praying she was calling this one right.

The someone popped around the rock, almost colliding with Rose. Rose caught the person by the shoulders, shoved them back. They squeaked in alarm.

The next instant, Rose’s eyes went wide. “Ezzie!”

“Rose?” The older woman’s dark eyes flicked up and down, taking her in. “What are you doing here? You know the drill—you’re supposed to wait at the ship till someone comes to meet you!”

“I know, Ezzie, but—” Rose began.

Ezzie’s gaze shifted to Poe and Kaydel, then back to Rose. “You and your friends have to get out of here. Hurry.”

“But what—”

Ezzie grabbed Rose by the arm and began bodily propelling her back toward the shuttle. Poe looked desperately to Rose for direction, ready to shoot but not wanting to shoot someone Rose knew by name.

Rose waved him down. “It’s okay. Ezzie’s my cousin. She’s with the Underground.”

“Rose, listen to me!” Ezzie hissed. “The First Order is here. They’ve stationed a garrison.”

Rose set her feet, suddenly furious. “What! Why? What’re they doing here? Haven’t they done enough!”

Ezzie looked back over her shoulder, then hustled the three of them back into a nook in the rocks. Poe kept scanning past her, his blaster still drawn and ready in case it was an ambush.

“They ran off the gangs,” Ezzie said, breathless. “Landed troops, grabbed all us Haysians and shuffled us off. We thought they were going to kill us all. They just kept us out of the way while they went through town.” She shook her head in disbelief. “They killed every gangster they could find.”

“ _What?”_ Rose and Poe said together.

“You saw the bombing range?” Ezzie said. “They cleared that out, too.”

“What’s the Underground doing?” Rose said.

Ezzie wet her lips. “Nothing.”

“ _Nothing?”_ Rose repeated. “Why not? We came to find others who want to fight the First Order. I already know there’s plenty.”

“You won’t find them here,” Ezzie said.

Rose’s stomach clenched. She wanted to ask but didn’t want to know.

Kaydel asked the question for her. “What has the First Order done?”

“This is the part you won’t believe.” Ezzie’s face pleaded for understanding. “The stormtroopers they stationed? They’re Haysian. They’re the children the First Order stole, all grown up and trained up into stormtroopers. How can we fight our own children?”

“Are you sure?” Rose said.

“Rose,” Poe said. “We need to check this out.”

Ezzie was shaking her head. “You need to get out of here. They don’t do anything to us, but you’re Resistance, Rose. I’m guessing your friends are, too.”

“I’m Haysian. They won’t know we’re Resistance unless somebody tells them.” Rose looked hard at the older woman. “Will they?”

Ezzie drew herself up. “You know they won’t.”

Poe and Kaydel looked at Rose, waiting for her decision—she was the one who knew Hays Minor, who knew these people. The problem was, she couldn’t imagine any Haysian allowing the First Order to station a garrison without trying to fight back.

“Could we talk to one of these stormtroopers?” Rose finally said. “One you trust. What’s going on here—it doesn’t make sense. The First Order just doesn’t _do_ things like that.”

Ezzie studied her a long moment, then studied Poe and Kaydel just as long. “You two need to forget you’re Resistance. You’re just my cousin’s friends from Skota come along so she didn’t have to travel alone.”

Holstering his blaster, Poe nodded once, then Kaydel.

“Good,” Ezzie said. “Rose, I’m trusting you not to mess things up for anyone. You can leave again. We can’t.”

“I know,” Rose said and squeezed the older woman’s shoulder. “We won’t.”

They followed Ezzie onto a faint path around the old bombing rage. The smell of explosives was almost choking. Rose blinked and squinted her tearing eyes. The footing was almost as treacherous as before the bombs had been exploded.

White-armored figures appeared ahead. Rose dug her fingers into Ezzie’s arm. Kaydel sucked a breath between her teeth. Poe’s hand twitched toward his blaster.

“Don’t!” Rose hissed at him.

“Relax, cousin,” Ezzie said. She didn’t sound relaxed.

“I’m relaxed,” Rose said. “I’m relaxed. Happy to be visiting. Stormtroopers coming to meet us is fine.”

Ezzie made a sound that might’ve been a laugh under better circumstances.

The stormtroopers—half a squadron of them—stopped and waited for them at the edge of the bombing range. Ezzie waved a hand in greeting.

“Everything all right here, ma’am?” one of them said. “We saw a ship land.”

“It’s my cousin Rose and her friends,” Ezzie said. “She’s come home to visit. She’s been away awhile.”

The helmet swung to face Rose. “Where’re you coming from, ma’am?”

“Skota,” Rose said. “Hays Major.” She gestured to Poe and Kaydel. “These are my friends. Poe and Kaydel. The ship is Poe’s. He has a little business shuttling passengers and freight around the Rim.” Rose suddenly realized they were in big trouble. Better play it up. “Uh…” She looked down, then up pleadingly. “It’s not exactly official.”

The trooper laughed. “Is anything in the Otomok system?” He turned to Poe. “We’ll need to check your ship, sir. We’ve had problems with smugglers.”

Poe met Rose’s eyes for an instant before he answered the stormtrooper. “Go ahead. Smuggling isn’t my thing. Not worth the risk.”

Rose thought she’d faint with relief. She figured it’d be even odds that Poe would start a firefight. On the other hand, there was nothing suspicious about the shuttle. Sure, there were weapons aboard, but anyone flying the Rim would be armed. It wasn’t like it was registered to the Resistance or anything.

Two stormtroopers split off to examine the ship. The other three escorted them to the town.

Rose remembered a huddled collection of shacks and lean-tos made out of garbage and found materials. Now there were a handful of prefab units, more in various stages of completion. Small and nothing fancy, but they were tight and warm and clean, with solar panels on the roofs for heating and power. Rose goggled. Poe and Kaydel eyed the scene with suspicion.

Ezzie gave her a sidelong look. “The First Order started putting those up when they stationed the garrison.”

“Wow,” was all Rose could manage.

“Huh,” Poe said.

“Medical is over there,” Ezzie pointed to a larger prefab building. “A droid staffs it.” She pointed again to another larger, partially completed building. “That one’ll be hydroponics and water purification.”

“Tests indicated the water here is highly toxic,” the stormtrooper said.

“Yeah,” Rose said faintly. “The mines did that.”

“Is Trip on duty?” Ezzie asked the stormtrooper.

“He rotated off shift an hour ago,” the man said. “He’s probably at home.”

Rose was getting dizzy. The concept of “stormtrooper at home” defied reason. Poe looked like he was biting his tongue. Kaydel just looked around in complete disbelief.

The stormtroopers left them, and they continued on into town.

“Trip’s real name is Bren,” Ezzie said quietly. “Vi Jano’s son. Do you remember her? They gave him a number when they put him in the stormtrooper program, but he goes by his stormtrooper nickname.”

Ezzie finally stopped at one of the prefab buildings and pushed the call button. A Haysian smelt bell hanging from the eaves rang softly in the thin, cold wind. A traditional cairn stood outside the door, the shape and choice of stones denoting happiness. Rose tried to remember the last time she’d seen one of those on Hays Minor. A long, long time ago.

An older woman with a long scar slanting across her forehead opened the door.

“Vi,” Ezzie said. “This is my cousin Rose Tico and her friends. Paige’s little sister—you remember.” There was a certain tension in Ezzie’s voice and eyes.

Vi’s eyes widened for a fraction of a second. Obviously, she _did_ remember Paige and Rose—and what they’d done when they left Hays Minor.

“They want to talk to Bren,” Ezzie explained.

Vi’s eyes narrowed. “Why?”

“We won’t cause any trouble, ma’am,” Poe put in. “It just that…what we’ve found here wasn’t what we expected.”

Vi eyed them, then came to a decision. “Come in. You’ll attract more attention standing out there.” She stepped back.

There was the bustle of introductions. Seats were offered and caf was brought.

Rose studied Bren—Trip, he said to call him. He looked around eighteen, with buzz-cut black hair and bright, earnest black eyes. His earnestness, so much like Finn’s, wrenched at Rose’s heart. Were all stormtroopers like this? How could they have hated them?

“Rose hasn’t been here since the bad times,” Ezzie explained. “She was a little afraid to come when she saw stormtroopers.”

Trip suddenly seized Rose’s hand. Poe tensed, ready to lunge.

Trip, focused on Rose, didn’t seem to notice. “No, ma’am. Everything’s different now. We’re here to rebuild, not destroy.”

“Why would the First Order want to do that?” Poe said with an edge.

“Poe,” Kaydel warned gently.

“That’s all right, ma’am,” Trip told her. “We’re used to it. The First Order hasn’t made a good impression on a lot of people. That’s why the captain stationed us on our home planets. To build trust. We were told it’d be hard—even with our own families. They might think we betrayed them. I was lucky.”

He looked across at Vi. Her eyes shined with tears as she smiled at him.

“The First Order has done some terrible things,” Trip went on. “Taking us from our families, test-bombing this planet. We can’t go through the galaxy making enemies. We need friends who’ll support what we’re trying to do.”

 _Uh-huh_ , Rose thought. “What’s the First Order trying to do?”

“Get rid of the cartels and slavers and pirates,” Trip said. “Bring order and make the galaxy safe for ordinary people.”

Rose didn’t get it. Not even a little bit. First they ravage Hays Minor, then they turn around and rebuild it?

Poe leaned forward, elbows on knees. He was like a hound on a scent. “What’s your mission objective, Trip?”

“Protect the civilian population. Help rebuild and make the communities productive and self-sufficient.”

“Protect against who?” Poe shot back.

“Anyone. Anyone who threatens our civilians.”

“Military?”

“Yes, sir.”

“The only military you’re likely to face is First Order,” Poe pointed out.

Trip met his eyes squarely. “Yes, sir.”

Poe’s brows climbed. “You’ll fight your own people?”

“We’re ordered not to engage. Just get our civilians to safety. The Grey Guard will take care of the rest.”

The conversation was getting more and more bizarre. “Who’s that?” Rose said.

“They’re the reason everything changed,” Trip said. “When they came aboard the _Raptor_ , all of us saw the truth of what we’d been doing and what had been done to us. It was like we’d been locked in a cell for years, and someone came and broke down the walls so the light could shine in.”

“It wasn’t that easy,” Vi said grimly. “Not the way you told me.”

Dropping his gaze, Trip clasped his hands. “No. It was…” He set his jaw and looked up again. “You want to know how bad it was?” He looked around at each of them. “In battle or a firefight, a lot of us just let ourselves get shot. You’re out of it then. Better than doing the things you’re ordered to do.”

Poe sat back, his eyes widening in sudden comprehension. Vi gave a strangled sob, rushed over and hugged her son.

Trip patted her arm in reassurance. “You already know what the First Order’s done,” he continued. “But we have a chance to make up for it now. That’s why we’re here.”

“Who’s this Grey Guard?” Poe said. “What do they do?”

“They’re a species none of us ever saw before. I don’t know how they do it, but they can bring out every horrible thing you ever saw or did or thought or are afraid of. Drop you right where you stand. You can’t even fight back—you’re too terrified.”

“Telepaths?” Kaydel said.

“Telepaths don’t sound good,” Rose said nervously.

“Only if you have something to hide,” Vi said with a thin smile.

Rose sat up straight. “After what Trip said? Yeah, that’s scary. Sorry.”

Vi glanced away.

“You don’t have to worry, ma’am,” Trip said. “They’re only dangerous to enemies. The rest of us—we’re fine.”

Rose sat trying to puzzle out what was going on here. Because _something_ obviously was. This wasn’t just stormtroopers deserting the First Order, the way Finn had. Trip was talking about orders. With the investment of equipment and supplies they’d seen, that meant the involvement of someone higher up. _Much_ higher up.

She brought herself back to the moment, to the young stormtrooper who could’ve been her own little brother or younger cousin. If the First Order hadn’t stolen him away, he could’ve easily grown up setting bombs and booby traps and plotting sabotage like she and Paige had. Instead, he was here as a First Order soldier doing the exact opposite.

She leaned forward and touched Trip’s hand, conscious of Vi watching as narrowly as Poe had earlier.

“Thank you, Trip,” Rose said. “I’m glad to’ve met you. I’m glad you made it home again. It sounds like we’re lucky you did.”

Trip gave a wide, white, open smile. “I am too, ma’am. I hope you feel easier about us being here.”

That “us” worried her, but she smiled back at him. Standing, she said her goodbyes and went back outside into the thin, cold wind with Poe and Kaydel and Ezzie.

Ezzie gave her another of those sidelong looks. “Want to talk to anyone else?”

Rose blew out a breath. “I think we better.”

Ezzie only nodded and took them to another old friend’s house.

When she and Poe and Kaydel finally got a chance to talk privately, Rose sat trying to put it all into some kind of order in her head.

“What the hell are they trying to do?” Poe said, running a frustrated hand through his hair. “Is it some kind of propaganda campaign, or what?”

Frowning, Rose gripped her knees and sat staring at the opposite wall as if she’d find answers written there. “A lot of people are just as confused as I am,” she said slowly. The ones whose children have come home are happy—well, _happier_. Everyone else…they’re wondering the same thing we are.”

Kaydel had mostly stayed quiet, just watching and listening. It was what she was best at. Rose had learned that after she woke up from her coma to discover her whole world had fallen apart while she was out.

“It sounds like they’re some kind of splinter group,” Kaydel said.

“Come on,” Poe scoffed. “Rogue First Order? Are you kidding me?”

“Finn left the First Order to help you escape,” Rose pointed out.

“Yeah. _One_ guy,” Poe said. “This is a lot more than that. Someone in command is behind this.”

Kaydel’s eyes gleamed with excitement. “Poe, this could be exactly what we need. We could use this!”

“If you’re thinking about working with the First Order,” Poe said, “it isn’t gonna happen.”

Kaydel leaned forward. “No, listen. If they’re doing this, it isn’t the First Order, no matter what they call themselves. _Hux_ is in charge of the First Order. _Hux_ , who used the weapon that destroyed Hosnian Prime. Can you imagine him doing anything remotely like this?”

Rose shuddered. “No.”

Poe snorted. “So then who’s in charge of this? Kylo Ren?”

Kaydel stared at him.

His derision turned to disgust. “You gotta be kidding me, Kay.”

“He called General Organa ‘mother,’” Kaydel said. “It’s exactly the kind of thing she’d do—undermine the enemy by pretending to be them.”

It made a certain amount of horrible sense, Rose thought. If Kylo Ren really was Leia’s son—

“No.” Poe shoved to his feet and stalked away, hands on hips. After a moment, he turned back around. “That's a perfect reason to stay the hell away from them.”

“I know what happened on Jakku, Poe,” Kaydel said quietly. “But you’re in charge of the Resistance now. It can’t be personal anymore. It has to be what gives us the best chance of success.”

Poe looked like she’d told him poisoning himself would be their best chance. Rose was wavering back and forth between her own flat-out rejection of the idea and picking it apart like a mechanical problem.

“So how would we go about it?” Rose said. “Walk up to Trip or somebody and tell him who we are?”

Kaydel pursed her lips. “I thought you’d know who to approach and how to go about it.”

Rose could see Poe wanted to dismiss the whole thing as craziness.

“We came here looking for allies,” Kaydel said before he could say so. “What if these are better than the ones we expected to find?”

Poe paced some more. “The thing about it is…” he finally said. “Strategically, these _are_ better. Maybe the best. Even if this is only a splinter group, they have more resources than we could hope to get in a year. And if we could drive a wedge between two factions in the First Order…” Now it was Poe who looked excited. “This could work. What do you think, Rosie? You up for it?”

Rose thought about it, trying to decide how she felt. She’d spent her whole life hating the First Order. Finn had broken through some of that, showing her that the First Order was made up of people, like any other group. And Trip, when he told them how stormtroopers committed suicide by enemy fire—that made her sick. How could you hate anyone that desperate and hopeless? How could you hate them when they were trying to make things right now?

She nodded once. “Okay. Let me talk to some more people, get a better idea of where everyone is on all this.” She gave Poe a nervous glance. “Since you won’t say it, I will. This is crazy, you know?”

“I know.” Poe grinned. It was the happiest she’d seen him since she’d woken from that coma on the _Bright Princess_. “That’s why it’s going to work.”

* * *

It was hard coming back to Kes. Luke had expected it to be—he just hadn’t expected it to be _this_ hard. The ruins of the temple and the students’ huts covered with a decade’s worth of weeds and leaves whispered _failure, failure_. His stomach clenched and he swallowed hard, assaulted by too many dark memories.

Finn stood a little distance away, hands on hips, looking around. The little astromech droid, BB-8, rolled between charred and broken timbers scattered across the ground. Maz stood silently, her eyes narrow behind her lenses, her arms folded.

Chewie was still on the _Falcon_. Luke assumed he’d already seen all this years ago, when it was still fresh and raw, the stink of burning still in the air. Han and Leia would’ve come to see after they received the holo he’d recorded. It occurred to him to wonder if Rey had told Chewie about that night. If she had, was it what he’d told her, there in the dark, in the pouring rain…or the truth?

That night rushed over him again—dragging himself, bruised and bleeding, out of the wreck of Ben’s hut. The temple a torch against the pearly night sky. At first, he’d thought Ben had set it afire in rage and spite. Only later, when shock and grief had cooled to dull horror did he realize it was a pyre. The bones he found in the cooled ashes had been arranged meticulously. He couldn’t square the slaughter with the careful respect shown the fallen. The implications chilled him.

Now, under the bright light of Kes’ morning sun, he explored the handful of huts that remained standing. One or two might be made habitable with some effort. He was throwing windblown trash out of the most likely when Finn appeared in the doorway.

Luke turned back to his task as Finn watched silently. The other man shifted his weight, took a breath as if to speak. He didn’t. Just stood in the doorway almost visibly bubbling with questions he couldn’t quite ask.

“Han told us a boy turned on you and destroyed everything,” Finn finally said. “It was Kylo Ren, wasn’t it?”

Bending his head, Luke clenched his fists within the sleeves of his robe. “Ben Solo. Yes.”

“Did Han know?”

Luke turned away and bent to clear more trash. “I told him.”

“Then why—?” Finn broke off. “I saw. When Kylo Ren murdered him, I was there. Rey was, too.” He breathed hard a moment, then burst out. “I don’t know how Rey could’ve gone to him. He _had_ to’ve tricked her.”

 _This_ was what had brought the young man to hover in the doorway.

“The dark side…” Luke began, his voice rough. “Unless you’ve felt it, it’s hard to describe. The way it twists and deceives you. Endlessly works at you. No matter how hard you fight it, it wears you down.”

Finn didn’t reply. Luke struggled free of his thoughts to find him staring at something—or nothing—outside, his jaw knotted. Sudden certainty settled on him, the answer to a question he didn’t yet know to ask.

“Finn,” Luke said.

The young man looked back at him.

“We have to find Rey.” Luke chose his words carefully. “We have to bring her back.”

“I know.” Finn looked anguished. “I don’t know how. Since Crait, I haven’t been able to find anyone—”

“She won’t stay hidden for long. The Force won’t allow it.”

Finn frowned, uncertain.

“If she finds you, bring her to me.” Luke hesitated then added, “She won’t want to come.”

“Why not?”

“When she wanted to go to Kylo Ren, I did everything I could to discourage her.” Luke dropped his gaze. “We didn’t part on good terms.”

“If she doesn’t want to come, I’m not going to make her,” Finn said firmly.

“Not even to save her?”

Finn looked much less certain. “I went to Starkiller Base to save her, and she’d already escaped on her own. She knows how to take care of herself.”

“I know,” Luke soothed. “I saw that when she was with me. But everything about the Force is new to her. No matter how capable she is, she’s vulnerable to being misled. You keep saying you think she’s been tricked.”

“She has. She must’ve been.”

“Then give me a chance to fix it.” Luke approached the other man, laid a firm hand on his shoulder, weaving Force persuasion into his words. “Don’t tell her you’re bringing her to me. Invent some other reason. Don’t tell Chewie or Maz, either. They won’t agree to misleading her.”

He could feel Finn’s struggle—the young man was deeply attached to Rey.

“I can’t—” Finn began.

“The alternative is to leave her to the dark—to leave her in the hands of Kylo Ren. Because you know that’s where she is right now, Finn. He’s had her since she left me.” Luke emphasized the word _had_. “You know. You _saw_.”

Finn frowned.

“There’s no one else I can count on,” Luke pressed. “Chewie sent her to him once. Maz gave her Darth Vader’s lightsaber.”

Finn’s eyes went wide. “That was _Darth Vader’s?_ I thought it was yours.”

Luke didn’t answer. He didn’t like talking about his father. His feelings were too complicated—shame, anger, regret, gratitude.

He squeezed Finn’s shoulder. “Will you help me, Finn? Will you help me save Rey?”

Finn’s jaw worked a moment, then he straightened. “To help Rey… I’ll do it. I’ll do whatever it takes.”

Luke nodded firmly, his hand still on the young man’s shoulder. Everything that had gone wrong—it would all be made right soon. He could feel it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for your support! Your comments are the best part of this adventure. I love hearing what you think about the story. You're the best! 💕


	52. Understandings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Kylo gets jealous, Rey sets him straight, and the kids get their first lesson in the Force.

When Kylo sent the shuttle into hyperspace, Rey stood.

“I’m going back to check on the kids.”

He gave her a questioning look. He was back in his black padded tunic, his lightsaber at his side once more.

“They’re probably scared,” she explained. “I would’ve been if it was me.”

Excited and thrilled, but scared, too. Who knew what was coming? They were still kids, and the adults around them decided what would happen.

He nodded and turned back to the controls.

Giggles met her when she stepped into the cabin. They were playing some kind of keep-away game with Kreet—or Kreet was playing the game with them, she guessed.

She smiled. If someone had told her two weeks ago that she wouldn’t mind a deadly darkside creature playing with kids, she’d’ve said they were crazy.

She remembered herself around that age, playing with her Resistance doll and pilot’s helmet in the shadow of her new home, a toppled war machine. Kids might be more or less helpless, but they were able to find joy in the moment.

She watched awhile. The dozen Nightfolk in the cabin had withdrawn into themselves—no sense of menace or forbidding darkside energy. After the feast at Canto Bight, Rey doubted they felt any need to feed. Eventually, Kreet noticed her. With a questioning whistle, he stopped his game. All three kids looked up, and she crossed to sit down next to them.

“Scared?” she asked.

They looked at each other. “A little,” admitted Arashell, the redheaded girl.

“What’s it like on the ship you’re taking us to?” Oniho asked.

“The _Relentless_ ,” Rey said. “Big. Lots of people, like a city. More than Canto Bight.”

Three pairs of eyes went round.

“Ben says there are other children on the ship,” she went on. “They’re called cadets. They learn to read and write, figure numbers and work with all the stuff on the ships.”

“Are there other kids there who do magic?” Temiri asked.

“I don’t think so,” Rey said. “Not many of us can. And it’s the Force, not magic.”

She sensed unhappiness from the boy. Kreet had settled in his lap. He stroked the hassash’s brindle fur.

She bent her head to catch his eye. “What?”

“I wanted Oniho and Arashell to learn to do magic, too. The Force,” Temiri corrected himself.

Rey thought of herself, an ordinary scavenger child all her life. Except for the bond. The bond hadn’t been ordinary.

“I don’t know,” she said gently. “Ben can teach anyone about the Force. Then if you find out you do have it, you’ll know what’s going on.”

“Won’t you teach us?” Arashell said.

“Ben’s teaching me, too. I’m still learning.”

They looked like this was a revelation.

“But you’re _old!”_ Oniho said.

Rey choked back a laugh. “Yeah. But I only found out about the Force a little while ago.”

She counted backward. Three weeks? Not even that long. It seemed like years.

“What do you do on the ship?” Arashell asked.

“Now, I’m learning how the galaxy works—what people do, what’s important to them. Before, I was a mechanic. I worked on all kinds of ships. I knew how to fix them, how to take them apart.” That was certainly glamorizing a scavenger’s life. “What did you do in the fathier stables?”

“Cleaned ‘em,” Temiri said and wrinkled his nose.

“We take care of the fathiers, too,” Oniho said. “Feed them, brush them, make sure there’s no stones in their hooves, clean and take care of their electrocrop wounds.”

_“What?”_ Rey said.

“The jockeys use electrocrops to make the fathiers run faster,” Arashell explained. “They get bad sores.”

Rey frowned. She knew the animals had been forced to run. She didn’t think they’d been tortured, too.

“When they hurt, I use my magic to make them not hurt so much,” Temiri said quietly, then corrected himself again. “The Force.”

“We let all of them out one night,” Oniho said. “The fathiers. We did it to help the pretty Resistance lady and her friend get away from the police chasing them, but we wanted to do it for a long time.”

“They caught the fathiers and brought them all back by morning,” Arashell said sadly.

“Not all,” Temiri said. “Some never came back. We hope they escaped. But we don’t know for sure.”

Rey had perked up. “Resistance?”

“Yeah,” Temiri said. “They gave me this ring. The lady did. Her name was Rose.”

He showed off a ring far too big for his finger. It was gold-colored metal with a perforated bezel. He fiddled with it, and a plain cover retracted to show the symbol that had been on Rey’s old Rebellion pilot’s helmet.

The Resistance had been at _Canto Bight?_ It didn’t make sense.

“What was the friend’s name?” Rey said. “Do you know?”

“His name was Finn,” Arashell said.

Rey sat up straight. “ _Finn?_ Finn’s my friend, too! When was this?”

The kids looked at each other and shrugged. “I don’t know,” Oniho finally answered. “A while back.”

“What did he say?” Rey said, excited. “How did he look?”

Oniho pointed at himself. “He looked like me.”

“No, I mean, did he look well?”

More shrugs. “He looked scared,” Temiri said. “The police were chasing him.”

Oniho laughed. “You should’ve seen! The fathiers knocked the police over like bowling pins! It was funny.”

“We got whipped for it afterwards,” Temiri rubbed his legs.

“Temiri used his magic on us, too,” Arashell said proudly, then said, “The Force.”

Rey frowned, thinking. If Finn had been with someone from the Resistance, was it before Crait, or had he caught up with them after? Finn hadn’t been with them when they surrendered. She tried not to feel thwarted and frustrated.

A flash of black caught her eye. She turned just in time to see Kylo disappearing through the door to the cockpit. She reached out through the bond and felt— Nothing.

“I’ll be back,” she told the children, got up and followed him.

Kylo was back at the controls, studying them closely. Through the viewport, the blue of hyperspace still streaked past. Rey knew perfectly well there wasn’t much to do until they dropped back to realspace.

She sat in the copilot’s seat. “What’s wrong?”

He didn’t answer, just continued to tweak the controls.

“You have the bond shut,” she said. “You do that when you don’t want me to know what you’re feeling. I know there’s something wrong.”

His lips went to a thin line.

“Kylo—”

He turned and gave her a look. “ _Don’t call me that_.”

“Then don’t act like that,” she shot back. “What’s the matter with you?”

He turned forward again. His jaw knotted. “ _Finn_ ,” he finally said.

“What about him?”

He took a moment to reply again. “You want to find him.”

“Yeah, I want to find him. He’s my friend!”

“That’s not all he is.”

“What are you talking about?”

“You _miss_ him. When you talk about him, you’re sad.”

She leaned forward. “I’m worried about him. He’s the first one who ever came back for me.”

“ _Not_ the first.”

No, Kylo had come for her first—even if neither of them remembered it at the time.

“No, not the first,” she agreed. “He’s still my friend.”

“ _He_ doesn’t think so. He fought me for you. On Starkiller. _Me_.”

“You’d just thrown me into a tree and knocked me out! What would _you_ do?”

“That,” he said, “is the point.”

Understanding finally dawned. “Are you setting him up as a rival?” She was beginning to get angry. “You think when— _if_ —I see him again, I’ll turn my back on you?”

“He isn’t a murderer,” Kylo ground out.

“He was a stormtrooper. I’m pretty sure he killed innocent people.”

“No. Jakku was his first mission. He disobeyed a direct order to kill.”

“How do you know?”

His look turned withering.

She met his stare. “Did you turn him in? Is that why he deserted?”

Finally, he broke from her gaze. “No.”

“Why not?” she said, challenging.

It took him a while to answer again. “Because he’s a better man than I am. He knew the consequences of disobedience. He still refused to kill.”

“Then why did you try to kill him on Starkiller? Because he tried to protect me?”

He was silent so long this time she thought he wouldn’t answer. “Because he reminded me what I was. What I’d been.”

A pain began under Rey’s heart, twisting until she was sick to her stomach.

Clenching her own jaw, she glared out the viewport. “You know, it sure sounds like you _want_ me to abandon you. Acting like this. Giving me reasons I should want to be with Finn instead of you. Having second thoughts, _Ben?_ Beginning to realize a nobody scavenger isn’t what Prince Organa should want?”

He whipped around and lunged at her. She raised her hands to defend herself, but he was on her too quickly. He’d crushed her in his arms before she realized it wasn’t an attack, but an embrace.

“ _Never_ ,” he said into her hair. “Never. Never.”

He held her so tightly she could barely breathe. The bond was wide open now. She felt his shame, insecurity, remorse. She managed to move her arms enough to get them around him a little.

“I _love_ you, Ben,” she whispered. Tears pushed into her eyes, trickled down her cheeks. “Don’t throw me away. Don’t try to get rid of me. I can’t— Not again—”

“No.” He pulled back, took her face in his hands, wiped her tears with his thumbs. “It isn’t _you_. Don’t ever think so. I thought about him—Finn. What he did. What I’ve done. You deserve better than me.”

Anger flared unexpectedly. She jerked out of his hold. “That’s for _me_ to decide. Not you. You might’ve kidnapped me and dragged me along with you whether or not I wanted to go, but _you_ don’t get to decide if I stay or go. If I decide to go, it’ll be for my own reasons, and you won’t keep me, Kylo Ren, Ben Solo, Ben Organa, whatever you want to call yourself. I proved that to you once. If I stay, it’s because I want to, and _kriff_ if I let you shove me away.”

Crouched in front of her, he stared at her wide-eyed, lips parted.

“Do I need to spell it out?” She leaned forward. “ _I don’t feel about Finn the way I do you_. I never did. Even when he came back for me on Starkiller, even when I was still afraid of you, I didn’t feel that way.”

Kreet scuttled in, leapt up on the control panel and growled. Rey jumped. Kylo was more controlled— he only flicked a glance at the hassash. Kreet glared first at him, then at Rey.

“You’re upsetting Kreet,” Kylo said.

“Not _me_.”

“We’re both upsetting him.” He drew a breath. “Rey, I’m sorry. I—”

_She_ was still upset. It suddenly struck her why.

“On D’Qar,” she interrupted. “When Finn was wounded and unconscious, I left him to go to Luke. Then I went to you. I didn’t even think of him. When things were the other way around, he dropped his plans and came back for me. So he’s better than I am, too. On the _Supremacy_ , I would’ve left you when you didn’t stop them from firing on the Resistance transports.”

“I know.”

She rocked back. “You do?”

“When you tried to steal that shuttle on the _Relentless_ , I knew then.”

She set her jaw, swallowed hard. “So maybe you’re the one who didn’t get much of a prize. I leave people when they need me.” That pain twisted under her heart again. “Someone left me, so I leave other people.”

“You run,” he corrected her. “When you’re afraid or uncertain, you run. When I’m afraid or uncertain, I lash out.” He took her hands. “I don’t let you run, Rey. You don’t let me lash out. You shut me down every time. It’s what the holocron told us—what Kahil said. We balance each other. The longer we’re together, the more balance we find within ourselves.”

“So try not to unbalance us,” she said, finally calming. “We already know what happens then.”

He ducked his head, hiding a smile. “You try to kill me.”

She pulled her hands from his. “Maybe someday I’ll understand why you think that’s funny.”

He just shook his head. Rey sighed. Talking to him was like trying to talk to a rock sometimes. If not for the bond, it would be impossible.

He stood. “I need to talk to Temiri.”

She followed him into the cabin. Kreet scampered ahead of them and climbed up onto Temiri’s lap. Kylo sat where she had, next to the kids, as they eyed him with a combination of curiosity and caution. Rey watched as he made himself less formidable, softening his expression and posture. It was an amazing transformation. Something about it made her heart turn over.

“We’ll meet with the _Relentless_ soon,” he said. “Things will be very different for you. Rey told you a little.”

All three nodded, wide-eyed and serious. Rey was conscious of the Nightfolk watching and listening in silence. Had they ever seen humans interacting with their young?

“You’ll be busy on the ship. Your job there will be to learn,” Kylo said. “I’ll teach you about the Force, too. All of you, if you want to learn. I’ll teach Temiri more, because he’s the one who can use it. Temiri, you have a special gift. That means you have special responsibility. Being able to use the Force means you can do things others can’t. That means you have to be careful with it. Like the way I’m bigger and stronger than all of you and Rey. I have to remember that and be careful not to hurt you. Arashell, Oniho, it’s your job to remind him if he forgets.”

The two straightened and nodded, proud to be included in the big responsibility.

Temiri’s gaze dropped to the hassash on his lap. Kreet hummed comfortingly.

“Yes,” Kylo said, answering an unspoken question. “You saw me hurt someone with the Force.”

Rey wondered how much he was scanning the kids’ thoughts. _A lot_ , she thought. She also wondered what had happened with the blonde girl—although she thought she could guess.

“That was wrong,” he went on. “I shouldn’t have done that.”

Rey had to struggle to keep from reacting.

“Temiri,” Kylo said, “what did you feel when you used the Force to help Oniho?”

“I was scared,” the boy said. “I didn’t want him to get shot. I was mad, too, because she was gonna hurt him and she didn’t care.”

“You used the Force to protect your friend,” Kylo said. “You used it the right way. When I took her blaster and froze her, that was also the right way to use it. It kept her from hurting Oniho or anyone else. I was angry, too—then I hurt her. She'd hurt Rey earlier, then she would’ve hurt or killed Oniho. I let my anger control me. That was where I went wrong.”

Nothing about dark side and light side, Rey noticed. Just the Force, and how it had been used.

“But she had a blaster,” Temiri said. “So it was a fair fight. Right?”

“You saw me stop the blaster bolts when you were lying in the street,” Kylo said. “But I got shot not long ago. It would’ve killed me if Rey hadn’t saved my life. Sometimes the Force is a better weapon, sometimes a blaster is. It depends. This isn’t about how fair the fight was. It’s about what I did after I won—and why I did it.”

Rey could see the kids trying to digest this. She was, too. Kylo’s actions made sense to her. You stop someone from hurting you. Then you make sure they never try to hurt you again. But maybe that wasn’t the moral—or not all of it, anyway.

“You can see how easily I—or you—can hurt someone with the Force, and how others can’t fight back,” he explained. “That’s why you have more responsibility than any of the other children you’ll meet. Even the ones older and bigger than you. Do you understand?”

“Yes, sir,” Temiri said very quietly.

Was this a lecture Leia had given Ben at this age? It must’ve been. It didn’t sound like something Luke would say. Definitely not Snoke.

“When we get to the ship, we’ll get you settled with the cadets,” he said. “You’ll get new clothes, and someone will explain the ship’s rules to you. Rey and I will be busy, so you might not see much of us. We won’t have forgotten you. Even if we can’t come, we’ll make sure you still learn about the Force.”

“Kahil?” Rey said. The Je’daii holocron would be perfect.

“She’ll teach what they’re ready for,” Kylo answered her. He turned back to the kids. “Is there anything you want to ask or tell us?”

They shifted uneasily.

“Maybe something about your parents?” Kylo prompted.

Reading thoughts again? Or was it from knowing Rey’s most desperate question?

“Will they know where we are, sir?” Arashell ventured.

“You don’t have to call me ‘sir.’ Call me Ren. Everyone on the ship knows me by that name. When we get there, they’ll take all your information. If there’s a way to find your parents, they will.”

Kylo glanced at Rey. Both of them knew how unlikely it was when the children had been abandoned, collateral for gambling debts. But she loved him for telling them the truth while not crushing their hopes. They were still only children. She well knew how important hope and trust could be.

They talked a while longer, the children’s caution and timidity gradually fading in the face of Kylo’s quiet patience.

Rey watched him. _This is who he really is_ , she thought. If not for Snoke’s twisting, Luke’s betrayal, his parents’ abandonment, this was the man he would’ve been. Even with all that dragging behind him, he still found the means to be kind and compassionate to children facing an unknown future. Maybe _because_ of what he’d been through.

A tear tracked down her cheek. She quickly wiped it away before any of the kids could notice.

* * *

There was a flurry of activity when they returned to the _Relentless_ : Settling Temiri and his friends in the cadet corps. A debriefing meeting in the holo-connected briefing room with the captains and commanders of all three ships—the _Relentless_ , the _Raptor_ and the _Precursor_.

Kylo was pleased with the progress made while he and Rey had been in Canto Bight. Funds diverted from First Order accounts ensured his people had plenty of credits available for operations. The attacks on the syndicates and cartels were sowing division and disorder. Rim worlds suddenly clamoring for First Order protection were creating crises of politics and resources—the First Order could hardly be expected to aid every pauper and derelict seeking aid! And best of all—

Best of all, the First Order’s credit had been severely downgraded. If Hux managed to obtain funds at all, he’d be paying dearly for the privilege.

Kylo listened, watching Rey soak it all in. He suspected much of it was familiar, the scrambling self-interest she’d witnessed every day on Jakku expanded to a galactic scale. It occurred to him how valuable her Rimmer’s perspective would be. He’d lived his life among the elites; she knew the worries and concerns of the billions who lived their lives from one day to the next.

When the debriefing was finished and new strategy sessions scheduled, he let Rey go to “check on the kids.” He thought she must be reliving her first days after being so suddenly removed from the familiar predictability of her life on Jakku.

The officers were dispersing back to their duties. Kylo caught the eye of one, his direct stare a silent command for attendance. DR-8853 remained behind. His dark face remained outwardly calm, but Kylo picked up a panicked thought: _Was I looking at her too much?_

“DR-8853—Dare,” Kylo said, making an effort to put the man at ease. “Is that your preference?”

“Yes, sir. Dare is fine.”

Kylo nodded. “There’s a matter I need your help with. Someone attempted to abduct Rey while we were on Cantonica. Four members of the Crymorah syndicate drugged her and would’ve taken her because of her connection to me. We thwarted the attempt.”

Dare’s face remained impassive, but Kylo felt his reactions: horror and anger. He nodded once and waited for Kylo to continue.

“The authorities took them into custody,” Kylo said. “They bought their way out once. They may again.”

Dare’s eyes were hard. “What do you want to do, sir?”

“I want them eliminated. The entire syndicate.” Kylo clenched his jaw. “I want it known that it was done on my orders.”

“Yes, sir,” Dare said then added, “Gladly.”

“Good,” Kylo said. “Keep me apprised.”

Dare’s regard for Rey had its advantages. Kylo’s only regret was that the Crymorah gang would never know the critical mistake they’d made when they targeted Rey.

* * *

An incoming message on the secure channel pinged on the shuttle’s control panel.

Embern Ren sighed. “The Supreme Leader calls.”

Magarn and Embern had taken off their helmets. Magarn’s face was elegant and ice-pale, Embern’s, square and dark.

Magarn curled his lip. “Let’s see what the redheaded pinwizzle wants,” he said. “What was it old Snoke used to call him? A baying hound?”

Embern sputtered and broke out into loud laughter. It was infectious—Magarn started laughing too. How long since they’d last laughed?

“A rabid cur,” Embern said, still chuckling.

The incoming message indicator blinked insistently. Bringing themselves under control, they quickly replaced their helmets. Magarn reached to open the channel. A holo of Hux appeared, looking as sour and annoyed as ever.

Magarn bowed his head. “Supreme Leader.” Embern echoed him.

“I have an assignment for you,” Hux said. “I’ve received intelligence that Kylo Ren was contacted on Cantonica. I want you to go to Canto Bight.”

Magarn tensed. He couldn’t sense Hux through the Force from light years away—not even Kylo would’ve been able to do that. But he knew Hux well enough to know how contorted his mind was.

“How long ago, Supreme Leader?”

“Some six hours,” Hux replied. “No doubt he’ll have fled by now, but we can still use his known presence there to our advantage.”

“You want us to put in an appearance,” Embern said, as always plotting out moves ahead. “As Kylo Ren.”

“Precisely,” Hux said. “No one will know the difference between one masked Force-user and another. Maximize the destruction. You know him. You know the sorts of things he does.” Hux made a vague, disgusted gesture.

Even with his mask on, Magarn didn’t dare say a word. Not while he was this angry.

“Yes, Supreme Leader,” Embern said. “Is there anything else?”

“Yes. If you do encounter Ren,” Hux said, “kill him.”

Both men murmured in unison, “Yes, Supreme Leader.” The holo winked out before the last syllable.

Magarn switched off the comm, ripped off his helmet, dropped it on the deck. “Is he setting us up?” he said. “Kylo’s stronger than we are. Hux knows that—we told him he killed the other four.”

Embern lifted off his own helmet and sat staring out the viewport at the blue streaks of hyperspace. “I don’t think he cares as long as we put on a good show.”

“Does he think no one will shoot at us while we’re ‘maximizing destruction?’ Stopping blaster bolts is Kylo’s thing.” Magarn narrowed his eyes. “What’s he up to? What was _Kylo_ doing at a high-roller’s playground—” He stopped suddenly, realizing.

Embern realized the same thing. “Does Hux know who Kylo is—was?”

Magarn shook his head. “He only calls him ‘Kylo Ren.’ He’s never said anything to indicate he does.”

“He must,” Embern said.

“I’d think so.”

Embern’s broad forehead creased in a thinking frown. “Kylo must’ve gone there as Senator Organa’s son. It’s the only way he could.”

“Has he joined the Resistance?” Magarn said in disbelief.

Still frowning, Embern shook his head. “Stepped into his mother’s shoes? She spent years grooming him for that.”

“They’d kill him before they’d accept him, after everything he’s done.”

Magarn nodded. “Kylo doesn’t have the patience for politics.”

“Or the charm,” Embern said dryly.

Magarn snorted a laugh, remembering Ben Solo’s reserved, awkward manner and general air of _difference_.

“While I’m waving my saber and playing Kylo Ren,” Embern said, “you go show off your handsome face and diplomat’s manners while you ask questions. And watch my back while you’re at it.”

Magarn put a hand on his shoulder. “Don’t I always?”


	53. Machinations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Rey makes a decision that Kylo really, _really_ doesn't like.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: Terrorist strike at the end of the first scene. Canon-typical violence, no gore.

A Corellian YT-Series freighter drifted in space just outside the hyperspace lane to Naboo. It looked much like a thousand others like it—a flat disk with its offset cockpit beside freight-loading mandibles. Highly recognizable, yet nonthreatening. But instead of freight or even contraband, the freighter packed a load of weaponry that could take out a capital ship.

The pilot had powered down everything but life support. Weapons were on standby, ready to power up at the flick of a switch.

In all his years in the First Order’s Security Bureau, the pilot had been on a lot of dark ops. But this—

 _This_ was something different.

His copilot tapped her hand on the control panel. It was a nervous tic. It didn’t help his own mental state.

“This mission,” she said, her voice tight.

The pilot glanced at his partner and waited. A line of tension ran down to her mouth, another around her eyes.

“I don’t like it,” she finally said.

“It’s not our job to like it,” the pilot said. “Just carry out orders.”

The line by her mouth tightened and she turned to face him. “A _civilian ship_. Why?”

He shrugged, pretending unconcern he didn’t feel. “The Supreme Leader has a reason. That’s all we need to know.”

Her dark eyes bored into him. “You don’t believe that.”

He turned away, looking out the cockpit. The distant Nabian sun was a brightly glinting gem against the starfield.

“What do you expect me to do?” he said.

She ran a hand through her close-cropped hair. “There has to be something.”

He didn’t say anything for a long time. The minutes to target arrival ticked down. “I could report you.”

She paled but set her jaw. “Maybe you’d better. I can’t stomach this.”

He felt sorry for her. Kriff, he felt sorry for himself. “We’re Security Bureau,” he said. “Our missions are for the good of the First Order—for the galaxy. For all we know, that ship could be carrying weapons or plans or enemy spies. This mission might save millions of lives.”

The knot in her jaw didn’t disappear. “For all we know,” she repeated bitterly.

Against the starfield, a ship popped into realspace. It was the target, the typical sleek shape and gleaming chrome of Nabian ships—a Skywanderer T-633 starliner carrying 1,257 passengers and 80 crew.

“Power up,” the pilot said. “We’re on.”

Training took over. The copilot flipped switches, brought engines online, engaged targeting systems. The whole ship vibrated as power was shunted to the weapons. Displays flashed and an alarm screeched, indicating power levels just short of overload.

The pilot looked over at his partner, demanding her gaze. “For the First Order,” he said when she met his eyes. “For Supreme Leader Hux.”

Her lips a flat, thin line, she nodded once.

The pilot engaged engines, quickly closing the distance to the Nabian starliner. The ship flashed on the targeting screen. His thumb pressed the trigger. Missiles streaked across space. A heartbeat later, and the graceful, silver shape turned to a blinding ball of superheated gasses and white-hot debris.

They waited the thirty seconds required to confirm that there were no distress signals sent, no survivors. The pilot pushed the slides to engage hyperdrive, the stars stretched to blue streaks, and they were gone.

* * *

Rey didn’t have any experience with leaving. Running, yes. Being dragged off, certainly. But a calculated plan to leave made every instinct in her howl with wrongness.

They hadn’t unpacked from the trip to Cantonica; it was only a matter of transferring some of the more practical clothes she’d gotten in Canto Bight from the case to a satchel she could sling over her shoulder. Her lightsaber was already clipped to her belt. The staff she’d made on Jannessi leaned against the wall by her bed.

She knew she’d have trouble with Kylo over her decision. She was tempted to just record a holo for him, but if anything would send him hurtling after her, it would be not giving him a chance to change her mind. Besides, that would be _running_ again. Since she wasn’t afraid or uncertain this time, she wasn’t running.

She took the holocron out of her traveling case. Sitting on the edge of the bed, she held it in her hands. The idea of leaving it behind made her squirm. But the kids needed it more than she did right now.

She stood, fastened her satchel and made her way to the _Relentless'_ cadet deck.

Children of every size and age moved along the corridors, gathered in classrooms. The oldest, a few years younger than Rey, looked like miniature First Order officers, complete with caps and gloves and jackets and rank cylinders. The younger kids also wore dark First Order colors, but only shirts and trousers.

Growing up with kids who wore whatever they could scrounge, whether it was a torn flight suit or battered pilot’s jacket or scavenged wraps like she’d once worn, it looked very strange. She began to get a glimmer of why people might welcome the First Order.

She passed a classroom where an instructor lectured on a holo of the galaxy. Another was full of younger children bent silently over datapads. In a third, group of kids were disassembling what looked like a power coupling under a teacher’s instruction. Rey itched to stop and listen, learn everything she’d missed in her self-teaching through scavenged holos.

Rey sensed curiosity around her, caught the glances, heard whispers as she passed. When she finally tracked down the Canto Bight kids, they already wore neat, dark First Order cadet’s uniforms. She sensed their excitement and nervousness, pride and uncertainty. Rey waited until the lieutenant talking to them noticed her and looked up.

The woman gave Rey a quick up and down. No doubt trying to figure out who this civilian stranger was and where she placed in the _Relentless’_ hierarchy.

“May I help you, madam?” she asked in a clipped, businesslike voice.

“I’m Rey. I’d like to talk to the children a moment. I have something for Temiri.”

Rey saw the moment the woman placed her as a Force-user and Kylo Ren’s partner: her eyes flicked to the lightsaber at her belt and widened.

She instantly became more deferential. “Of course, Lady Rey. Would a classroom be acceptable? It won’t be in use for another hour.”

Rey squelched the impulse to ask her not to call her “Lady,” then decided it wouldn’t matter much longer.

“Thank you.” She let the lieutenant lead them to the classroom.

When the woman left them, Rey sat cross-legged on the floor. The kids shared a glance among themselves and sat too.

“Is everything okay?” she said. “Are they treating you okay? Did they feed you?”

At the last question, they nodded eagerly.

“We’re going to have _beds!”_ Arashell said. “We saw them!”

“But Arashell has to sleep with the girls.” Oniho wrinkled his nose.

“But we’ll all be together for assesstement,” Temiri said reassuringly.

Rey translated that as ‘assessment.’ “Good,” she said. “Ben— _Ren_ and I told you we’d make sure you learned about the Force.” She put the holocron on the floor between them. “This is a holocron. It’s like a data chip, but you have to use the Force to open it.”

The kids eyed it.

“Go on,” Rey said. “You can pick it up.”

Arashell and Onhio looked at Temiri. He picked it up, turned it over in his hands.

“Do you feel anything?” Rey asked.

“Sort of,” Temiri said. “Almost like it’s humming, but I can’t hear it with my ears.” He looked at his friends. “Can you?”

They shook their heads, looking disappointed.

“I’m going to show you how to open it,” Rey said. “That hum—you have one, too. Can you feel it? It’s what you feel when you use the Force.”

Temiri squeezed his eyes closed. “I think so?” he said. “I feel yours, too. Yours is really…really…bright? Loud?” He straightened, his eyes still closed. “There’s Oniho and Arashell! I can feel them too!”

Oniho and Arashell closed their own eyes, probably trying to perceive what Temiri did.

“Good. That’s your Force energy,” Rey said. “To open the holocron, you have to bring your energy in tune with it. Go ahead and try.”

Temiri’s energy flickered and bounced as he tried to match it to the holocron. Rey finally cheated and helped.

Oniho and Arashell gasped and scrambled backwards when the holocron rose in the air. Temiri’s eyes popped open in time to see its sides fold back and the blue light ray up from the center.

At last, Kahil appeared, looking down at them. “Another unbalanced one,” she said with a sigh. “Too light. And still so young. What has happened to the Force?”

“In my grandfather’s time,” Kylo’s voice said from the doorway, “the dark side did everything it could to eliminate the light.”

Rey looked up to find him leaning in there, his eyes on the floor, his lips pressed tight. Shame and disgust came through the bond.

She wondered what memory or knowledge pained him. “Ben?”

Kahil hissed. “No wonder the Force bonded the two of you!”

He raised his gaze to meet Rey’s. She saw his promise there but didn’t know what he was promising.

She returned her attention to Kahil. “Will you teach Temiri?”

Kahil bowed her maned head. “I will. He will need to be able to open the holocron.”

“That will be your first lesson in the Force,” Kylo said to Temiri. “You try to open it. If you can’t, I’ll help you meditate on the dark side until you can.”

Knowing a little of what Snoke had made him do in service of the dark side, Rey heard this with some anxiety.

Nodding, Kahil said, “Yes. As will I.” She turned to the boy. “We will begin now. Close your eyes.”

Rey wanted to stay for the lesson. There was so much she wanted to learn—learn with her mind, not just instinct and what she picked up from Kylo. But she needed to have that conversation with him. Might as well do it now, while the kids were occupied.

She stood. Temiri’s glance darted to her. Smiling, she nodded in encouragement then caught Kylo’s eye. His attention snapped to her. She saw the tiny change in his expression as he read her, then he turned and left the room. Rey followed.

Cadets in their sharp uniforms filled the room outside. The muted buzz of their conversation fell silent around Kylo. Cautious and curious glances came his way as they filed into another classroom. The door closed. Only one cadet remained, a boy of about ten or eleven who hurried, head-down, out of the room. Kylo looked a question a Rey. She steeled herself.

“I’ve been thinking,” she began. “About what we’ve been doing. And I have an idea.”

He listened with his usual silent attention.

“There’s someone else who want to see Hux destroyed,” she went on. “The Resistance. They’re your natural allies.”

His expression closed.

“I can try to find them. If I do, I’ll make contact with them.”

“No.” He turned and started walking.

Falling into step with him, she gave him a look. “You can’t just tell me ‘no,’ Ben.”

He looked at her like, _Yes, I can._

“No, you can’t,” she said. “I’ve made my own decisions my whole life. No one’s going to start telling me what to do. Not even you.”

He walked on a few paces, long enough her temper started rising.

“You aren’t a nobody on Jakku anymore, Rey,” he finally said. “You’re a target. What happened at Canto Bight should’ve taught you that.”

“So are you,” she shot back. “We all are. What difference does it make if I’m a target here or somewhere else?”

He didn’t bother replying to that.

“Yes, _here_ I’m on a ship with thousands of turbolasers and canons and missiles and a couple of wings of TIE fighters,” she answered herself. “So do you think I’ll be safe here if six or ten of Hux’s star destroyers show up?”

He lengthened his stride. “There is no more Resistance. You’d be risking yourself for nothing.”

“The same Resistance you didn’t want to let go because they’d start another rebellion?”

He turned a glare on her.

It was a low blow. Especially since that’s what had started all this. But she was a scavenger. She was used to fighting dirty.

“You thought then they might be a danger to the First Order,” she persisted. “Since I don’t think you were keeping them prisoner for no reason, I guess that’s because they _are_ a danger. So let’s use that.”

“You don’t even know where to look for them.”

 _Ah-ha!_ she thought. The argument had shifted. She was making progress.

“I have some ideas. I thought I’d start on Takodana. If anyone knows, it’d be Maz.”

“Maz, who gave you my grandfather’s lightsaber that was supposed to’ve been lost.”

Did he consider that a good thing, or bad? “That’s the one.”

They continued in silence to the lift. Rey had the impression it was a thinking silence this time.

“If you’re determined to do this, we should do it together,” he said when the lift started moving.

This would be the hard part. She wet her lips. “When I got the Resistance prisoners on that shuttle, on the _Finalizer_ …”

The look he gave her this time was unreadable.

“They thought you killed her, Ben. Leia. Your mother. I tried to explain… I don’t think they believed me.”

Pain flared through the bond. She remembered again how recent her death was. How recent Han’s was. And he’d never even had the chance to grieve.

She took his hand. “I know you did everything you could for her. I _felt_ it. But they… Well, to them, you’re the enemy.”

His hand lay unresponsive in hers. His jaw knotted and his other hand closed in a fist.

“How do you plan to convince them to work with their _enemy?”_ There was an edge to his voice. “Or you? They _left_ you.”

She could tell from the way he watched her it was a deliberate hit. _Well, fair enough_. _Even princes can fight dirty, I guess._

She answered like it didn’t bother her. “By showing them that Hux is a worse enemy. _We_ can make a deal. Hux will just destroy them.”

The lift door whisked open on the command quarters deck. Two officers, a man and a woman, straightened to attention and quickly stepped to the side. Rey smiled and nodded; Kylo just breezed past.

“Say you can convince them,” he said when she fell into step beside him. “Their fleet was reduced to nothing but a First Order shuttle.” He gave her a pointed look. “What can they offer us?”

“If they were smart, they probably got rid of the shuttle the first chance they got. _I_ would have.” She gave him a look of her own. It was hard to tell for sure, but she thought he smirked. “Anyway,” she continued, “that can be part of the deal. You know there are people who aren’t happy about the First Order and what it’s done. We get them resources, they get us allies.”

“What’s to keep them from turning against us?”

She couldn’t tell if he was arguing to make sure she’d thought it through, or to find a reason to tell her “no.”

She frowned. That was something she hadn’t considered. “You really think they’d contact Hux for the bounty on you?”

“It’s good strategy,” he said. “Get two enemies fighting each other. Let them weaken themselves.”

On Jakku, she’d been able to tell if someone had nefarious intentions during a deal. Even on Laharna, she’d known _something_ was up—she’d just mistaken the target. “I should be able to tell.”

They paced side-by-side down the corridor. This was the command residence deck, so they passed few officers. Those they did automatically drew themselves up and gave crisp nods of salute.

Rey sensed Kylo’s thoughts whirring behind his impassive face. She felt when he came to a decision.

“All right,” he said. “But you take guards.”

“Ben—” she began to protest.

“No, this is my condition. Either I go with you, or you go with guards. If you’re my emissary, you’ll do what an emissary would. _Especially_ an emissary with a bounty on her head. They won’t take you seriously otherwise.”

“If I show up with a squad of stormtroopers in tow—”

“Out of uniform.” He gave her an annoyed glance. “I know how backchannel diplomatic missions work.”

“Oh. Yeah,” she said, chastened.

He nodded once. “You’ll take the shuttle we used for Cantonica.”

“That’ll make it look like—”

“Like we’re worth dealing with,” he finished for her.

She’d been thinking of a modest, nondescript ship, something to keep a low profile. Exactly how she’d survived Jakku—keep quiet, don’t attract attention. She wasn’t used to thinking of herself as a force to be reckoned with. It made her dizzy.

She wrinkled her nose, but nodded. “Anything else?” She tried hard not to sound sullen.

“You go armed at all times. Do not let anyone convince you to leave your lightsaber behind. If it’s a choice between a meeting unarmed or no meeting, you refuse the meeting. Anyone who knows anything about Force-users will know better than to even suggest the condition. Having worked with my mother, I assume Dameron will know at least that much.”

He didn’t quite curl his lip. _Quite_. But she sensed his contempt.

“You know I like to keep a weapon with me,” she reminded him.

“Good.”

They’d reached her quarters. She didn’t even think before palming the door open. Her things lay in full view, packed and ready to go. She quickly turned to Kylo, belatedly realizing how he would see it.

His gaze raked over her satchel on the bed, her staff leaning against the wall. Pain flashed through his eyes. The bond snapped shut.

“You don’t have any trouble leaving me, do you?” He sounded calm. Even without the bond, she knew he was anything but.

She caught the front of his tunic and dragged him around to face her. “You think I want to leave you?”

By his sides, his fists clenched. His eyes evaded hers.

She closed her eyes, looked away. She couldn’t see his hurt and disappointment and go through with this.

“Yes, I have _trouble_ leaving you.” She swallowed hard, willed her voice steady. “Thinking about it is like suffocating in a black sandstorm. But I want a life where I don’t _have_ to go armed everywhere. Where I don’t have to go to sleep with a weapon in reach. I don’t want to make a mark for every day I survive. I want a home I don’t have to surround with booby traps. I want to plan a future. I never let myself do that. The disappointment would kill me.” She made herself look up at him. “If leaving you for a few days or weeks means making that happen sooner, I’ll go against everything in me that’s screaming right now to stay, giving me every reason there is to stay, every _excuse_. No matter how sick it makes me and how much I hate it.”

He just stared at her a moment, emotions flashing through his eyes. He suddenly crushed her in his arms, folding over her and engulfing her.

“Come back.” His voice was low, rough. “If you don’t, the future won’t matter.”

Her hands were still trapped between them. She shoved. Hard. He didn’t let go, but she gained enough space to be able to glare at him.

“Don’t you say that, Ben Solo. Don’t you dare jinx me. I survived fifteen years alone. You make your own marks on the wall if you have to, but don’t jinx me by talking that way.”

He’d opened the bond enough she could sense the powerful roil of his emotions, like a surging sea. “I won’t mark each day,” he said. “I’ll mark the hours.”

She nestled against him again, into the comfort of his strength and warmth and rich, dark scent.

“Me too,” she whispered.

They held each other a while longer, but it wasn’t enough. Not enough comfort, not enough closeness. Threading her fingers into his hair, she pulled him down for a fierce, hungry kiss. His hands settled on her waist. He didn’t push her away, but he didn’t let her mold herself to him the way she craved.

She drew back, searched his face. “What?”

“You’re trying to distract me.”

She knotted her fingers in his hair and shook him gently. “I’m trying to save you up for when I’m away.”

He reached up, smoothed her hair. “There’s the bond.”

“I only get some of you with the bond.” She went up on tiptoes, kissed him again and whispered against his lips, “I want all of you.”

Kylo pulled away, reached out with the Force and swept everything off the bed. Both satchel and case hit with a thump, spilling clothes across the floor.

Rey didn’t care. Gripping his shoulders, she pulled herself up and wrapped her legs around him. His hands clenched on her bottom, grinding her against him. She wrapped her arms around him, kissed and nipped, opened her mouth to take his and let him take hers.

Every inch of her throbbed with pure, blind hunger. The clothing between them was maddening. Still kissing him, her hands went to his collar, tugging and fumbling. She didn’t realize he’d moved until he bent and deposited her on the bed, one knee bracing him on the mattress as his hands moved to the hem of her shirt. She kissed him even as she arched her back so he could pull it up. Her own fingers darted from the fasteners of his tunic to his belt. She became aware of the little eager, needy noises she made in the back of her throat.

Clothes went every which way to join her packing on the floor. He knelt over her, his eyes and hands roving over every part of her as if to memorize her. Hers did the same, gliding across warm skin over hard muscle.

“Make it so I remember,” she whispered. “Make it so I feel you for _days_.”

His pupils blew wide. With a feral growl, he descended on her.


	54. Partings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Kylo sends Rey off on her mission, the galaxy finds out about about an atrocity, and Luke faces his past.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: Some squicky semi-incestuous thoughts in the last scene. Also thoughts of suicide.

Kylo hand-picked the team he sent with Rey. Two were women, so there would be no excuse to be separated from her on that front. The other three were men. One was a Security Bureau operative. Kylo had chosen personnel with a variety of skills: close combat, sharpshooting, a medic, an expert in communications, the best pilot he could find, and one knowledgeable in survival in a variety of environments. There was some overlap with Rey’s own skills, but that would only mean she’d have dependable backup.

One of them was EL-4906, who’d guarded her when they took their first ship, the _Precursor_. Kylo hadn’t realized then how well he’d chosen her guard. The reserved, unassuming man was as resourceful as Rey with equipment, and had consistently won badges of distinction in hand-to-hand combat. It occurred to Kylo that it was all possibly overkill, but it eased his mind somewhat.

Kreet on his shoulder, he walked hand-in-hand with Rey across the gleaming flight deck to the shuttle. There were no honor ranks of stormtroopers, only the usual complement of maintenance techs, flight deck crew and droids. Rey’s guards and satchel were already aboard, but her staff—the bend she’d put in it on Jannessi straightened now—was slung over her shoulder. At the bottom of the boarding ramp, Kylo dropped her hand and pulled her to him, holding her tight. He didn’t care who was watching.

“Come home to me,” he said into her hair, his voice rough.

She only nodded hard against his chest. He sensed her struggling not to cry.

She pulled back enough to raise her face for a kiss. Taking her face in his hands, he gave her one, keeping it sweet and modest. He’d happily carry her back to her quarters or his for another round of what they’d shared a few hours ago. But then he’d have to go through this all over again.

Just before she boarded, Kreet hopped from Kylo’s shoulder to hers and linked his hands firmly around her neck. She shot the hassash a startled glance.

“Kreet stays with you. Like your lightsaber,” Kylo said.

“Maybe the whole star destroyer should just come with me,” she said with some exasperation.

“Don’t give me ideas.” Through sheer force of will, he let her hand go and stepped back.

For just an instant, she hesitated. Selfish hope leapt up that she’d change her mind, but her chin came up in familiar defiance and she turned and boarded.

Kylo stayed where he was, even as the boarding ramp retracted. He physically flinched when it sealed shut.

 _Three weeks. You’ve only had her three weeks_. He’d lived the rest of his life without her. He could do it again if he had to.

The problem was…he didn’t know if he could.

He made his way across the flight deck to the lift, from the lift to the flight control center. He stood, outwardly calm while everything in him strained toward Rey. He had to deliberately withhold himself from reaching for the Force and locking that shuttle to the deck, something perfectly within his capacity.

The shuttle’s engines flared blue. It lifted off and glided through the pressurizing field. Kylo watched until it was out of sight, then watched the control screens until it jumped to hyperspace. Only then did he turn and head back to his quarters.  

Before he’d even agreed to Rey’s risky—if frighteningly reasonable—plan, Kylo had already begun devising one of his own. Since he was dealing with Rey, he knew he had exactly two options: agree to let her go, or refuse and wait for her to disappear at the most inconvenient moment. The choice was obvious.

In his quarters, he sat at his desk and pulled his datapad to him. A few minutes later, he sent a detailed requisition down to Supplies—civilian clothes, everyday gear, civilian-issue blaster. Next, he scanned the manifests of his small fleet for the various craft available.

His Silencer, fast and well-armed, was his preference. But as Rey had told him in the beginning (and reminded him pointedly a few hours ago), it announced his presence wherever he went. Loudly. No, he needed something much less conspicuous.

He’d finished with the _Relentless’_ complement and was beginning on the _Raptor’s_ when his datapad pinged with an incoming message.

Annoyed, he almost declined it. But it might be about Rey. He tapped the datapad to answer.

“Sir,” Dare’s voice said. “Can you come to the communications complex? There’s something you need to see.”

Amid all the life on the _Relentless_ , Kylo couldn’t sense the Security Bureau officer. But he could hear something in his voice that made every muscle tense.

“I’ll be right there, Commander.”

Kylo made his way through the Relentless to the communications complex. He walked into a room lined with flickering screens and gleaming consoles. A holo projector stood at the center, a holo casting a blue glow over the people around it. Captain Vach, Dare and a few communications techs stood watching. A life-size holo of Commander Dameron—minus the blood and bruises he’d last seen on the man—stood at parade rest. Kylo stopped short and ground his teeth but forced himself to listen.

“—world that offers the First Order aid, resources or harbor will pay the price,” Dameron was saying. “The Resistance has operatives all over the galaxy. We’ll know who is with us and who is against us. I promise you here and now, we will see the bones of the First Order scattered across the galaxy.”

Dark side energy must’ve been churning around him, because everyone at the holo projector turned to look at Kylo. Vach gave a cool nod, watching him with his usual detached curiosity.

“What is this?” Kylo growled.

Dare turned and straightened to attention. “Sir, this transmission is being broadcast on all holonet channels. We’ve analyzed it and have been attempting to trace it.”

“Play it back from the beginning, Commander,” Vach said.

Dameron’s image flickered as the holo began again. “I’m Commander Poe Dameron of the Resistance. One hour ago, a Nabian starliner with over thirteen hundred aboard was destroyed en route to Naboo. All aboard were killed. I’m here today to claim credit on behalf of the Resistance. I warn you—this is only the beginning. For every being vaporized on Hosnian Prime in the First Order’s unprovoked slaughter, one hundred First Order sympathizers will die. For every—”

Kylo listened to the rest, everything slowly turning red as he watched Dameron’s cocksure face.

Kylo’s mouth was dry. His heart beat so hard he was lightheaded. The dark side pulsed and throbbed around him, begging for release.

 _Rey_. Her name looped through his mind over and over. Rey was flying to find these insane butchers.

Dare was saying something. Kylo wanted to sweep him away, destroy everything he could reach. But that wouldn’t help Rey. He forced himself to focus.

“—a fake,” Dare was saying. “Our analysis confirms it.”

“What?” Kylo said.

“Watch, sir,” Dare said. “I’ll show you.”

The holo zoomed up until only Dameron’s eyes were visible. Dare began playing it again, and the fanatical words barked through the room once more.

“Our pupils dilate and contract with emotion. This guy’s?” Dare paused through some of the most histrionic words. “Nothing. Exactly the same throughout.” He zoomed back out to show Dameron’s face and slowed the playback down until the words were an unintelligible drone. “Microexpressions are twitches of the facial muscles so brief and tiny we aren’t consciously aware of them, either in ourselves or others. When they’re in conflict with conscious facial expressions, they’re an excellent indicator of the true underlying emotional state. His microexpressions don’t track with his words. In fact, they don’t track at all.”

In the holo, Dameron’s face twitched and contorted—then suddenly jumped.

“There. Did you see it?” Dare said. “There’s another one at the thirty-three-point-six-two-nine second mark.” The jump happened again. “That’s where they spliced recordings. It’s invisible at normal playback speed, but clearly noticeable here.” He turned to Kylo. “They used a combination of existing holos and computer-generated images and speech to make this recording.”

“Hux flatters us,” Vach said drily. “He’s using our tactics. False flag terror strikes on vulnerable civilian targets to drive planets into the First Order fold.” He raised a brow at Kylo. “You do realize he’ll make moves to discredit and flush you out next.”

Kylo had just reached the same conclusion. “Yes.”

He was thinking fast and hard. Hux thought Rey was a rebel, so this was also an attempt on her. Everything in him wanted to rip through anything and everything between him and her, destroy anything that would hurt her. He felt the way he had when she arrived on the _Supremacy_ —frantic and knowing he absolutely could not give into it.

He turned to Dare. “Do you still have contact with the Security Bureau?”

“Indirectly, sir.”

Kylo nodded. “There’ll be more attacks. We need to find out about them before they happen.”

Vach’s eyes narrowed in thought. “Ideally, we expose the Supreme Leader himself as the architect, in violation of First Order principles.”

“Ideally, we stop them,” Kylo said.

Vach linked his hands behind his back and rocked on his heels. “That tactic is best used sparingly, and for the greatest gain. If it becomes apparent that we are, indeed, attempting to stop the attacks, they’ll be used to entrap us.”

Kylo could see Vach’s logic. He stared at the holo of Dameron. “I know Hux,” he finally said. “He won’t be content with employing a tactic. He’ll want a spectacle—the bigger, the better. If there’s a way he can make it about himself, that’s even better.”

“A strike against him personally?” Vach said. “Or a strike only he can prevent?”

“Both. Either,” Kylo said.

“A strike that big will be more than a normal dark ops mission,” Dare said. “It’ll require some coordination.”

Kylo wasn’t interested in a strategy meeting. “Figure it out.” He kept his voice as level as he could. “I’ll check back with you.”

He turned and strode from the communications center. He opened the first door he came to and stepped into a small room lined with monitoring screens. The single tech who sat observing them turned as he entered. The woman’s eyes went round.

“I need privacy,” Kylo said.

“Yes, sir.” The woman shot to her feet and hurried out.

Kylo pulled a secure commlink from his belt and activated it. “Rey,” he said.

She replied almost immediately. “What’s wrong, Kylo?”

“You have to abort,” he said. “There’s been a new development. Hux staged an attack on a civilian ship and created a holo of the Resistance claiming credit.”

There was a long moment of silence. Kylo forced himself to wait and not fill it with more reasons why she should return, and immediately.

“No,” she finally said. “This gives us more leverage. The Resistance won’t be able to pass up the opportunity to join us now.”

He paced. “Rey—”

“One of the things I learned,” she broke in, “was look for the value of what’s in front of you. Even better if you see value when no one else does.”

He thought of the story she’d told him that second night on Jannessi. “Even when it’s a cache of bombs?”

She didn’t reply for a moment, then admitted, “You have to know when it’s time to pack up and go home.”

“Yes,” he said, relieved.

“And if you do, make sure it’s in _your_ best interests, not someone else’s.”

For an instant, he thought she meant him, then realized—no. She was talking about Hux. She was saying, _Stay a step ahead. Don’t let him maneuver us_.

He’d hoped. He’d known it was a vain hope, but he still hoped he could convince her to return. The worst part was, she was right.

“Is EL-4906 there?” he said.

“Right here, sir,” came over the comm.

“Monitor the holonet,” Kylo said. “We’ll keep you apprised on our end.”

“Yes, sir.”

“And Rey?” Kylo said. “Your guard has my permission to bodily drag you back here if things get too precarious. Don’t put them in a position where they have to.”

Short of stunning her, they wouldn’t be able to make her do anything. Kylo only hoped appealing to her kind-heartedness would convince her to listen to her guards.

Her sigh was audible over the comm. “Yes, okay.”

There was a short silence where neither of them could say what they wanted to. He ended it first. “Safe journey, Rey. May the Force be with you.”

Where had _that_ come from? He hadn’t said anything like that since—

“You too, Kylo.” Her voice was unsteady.

There was nothing else to say—or there was too much. He flicked off the comm and paced the monitoring room.

Old feelings crowded in on him. Old partings, old sadnesses—

No. Not this time.

 * * *

Chewie, Maz and Finn had stayed on Kes long enough to make sure Luke had decent shelter, there at the ruins of his old Jedi temple. He hadn’t had to do much persuading to convince them to go; Chewie knew how he’d lived on Ahch-To. Maz and Finn seemed inclined to follow Chewie’s lead, although Luke caught Maz watching him shrewdly.

“I’m used to a hermit’s life,” he assured her.

She cocked her head and made a skeptical noise but didn’t argue.

At the bottom of the _Falcon’s_ boarding ramp before they left, Luke had set a hand on Finn’s shoulder. “I hope you find Rey,” he said quietly.

Finn’s gaze fell. Finally, his jaw set and he raised his eyes to Luke’s. He nodded once. “So do I.”

That was all. Finn would bring her if he found her.

Luke was grateful for the supplies they left with him. He was also grateful for the silence and solitude when they were gone.

No ship. No comm. No other people. Exactly what he wanted.

It felt strange and awkward, going through his nightly routine in a different place—a place thick with so many memories. They crowded around him like ghosts, threatening to drag him back to the past with them.

Luke forced himself to look around at the piles of weeds and vines that were once the students’ huts and the temple, the overgrown practice yard. This was the reality now. There were no ghosts. The charred bones were gone, taken away by the families of the fallen—it was the first thing he’d looked for when he returned, sensing with the Force through the temple’s ashes.  No, the only thing left was silence…and the master who’d failed his students.

He lay down on his narrow bed, stared up at the timber roof over his head and wondered how long it would take to fall asleep—or if he’d sleep at all.

Why had he come back here? Was it for more penance? More punishment. He folded an arm over his eyes and clenched his jaw. Would it ever end?

He should’ve known better than to sleep, his first night back in this place. When he did, the dream of that terrible night came again.

As always, Luke tried to fight it—to wake up, to change it, dream something else. As always, it ground relentlessly on, dragging him forward no matter how much he pleaded or struggled or tried to escape it.

As he always did in the dream, he snapped suddenly awake. He blinked into the dimness of his hut, certain he’d heard a whispering voice call his name. He lay still a moment, listening, sensing through the Force, but heard only the whirr of night insects, felt the thousands of little lives that moved through the night.

Within the dream, he felt like he was still dreaming. He pushed off the covers and rose, pulled on his robes and picked up his lightsaber, all as if from a distance from himself.

 _No, please_ , Luke begged his sleeping mind. _Not again. Please don’t make me. Not again_.

He moved like a sleepwalker through his students’ huts, the starlight so bright it sent his shadow rippling across the ground. He stopped outside Ben’s hut, silently pushed the door open and stepped inside.

Ben’s soft snores sounded from the opposite side of the hut. The evergreen smell of paint or ink lingered in the close air. Luke stepped closer to the boy’s bed, raised his hand and called the Force.

Ben’s future spooled out—into drowning darkness. Luke drew himself up, one corner of his mouth curling up. Screams, torture, horror, _death_ , again and again and again.

He’d seen enough. He began to withdraw from the vision, but it held him tight, dragged him forward. More darkness, endless, suffocating. Yes. Just as he had foreseen. Then—

 _Light_. A glimmer like a guiding star through storm clouds. It flickered, disappeared, reappeared, growing from a gleam to the blaze of a supernova. Clouds of horror and doom parted to show a vista of blinding possibility.

Peace. Beauty. Love. _Balance_. The Force flowing freely, in perfect tune throughout the galaxy. Two hands linked together, one full of darkness with a spark of light, the other blazing bright with a core of darkness, both equal, neither trying to overcome the other. Balance.

Luke-of-the-dream snatched back his hand and glared down at the boy with disgust and loathing. His hand fell to his belt, jerked his lightsaber free and ignited it in a menacing hiss of plasma. The green glow cast flickering shadows around the hut, touched the boy’s face with the sickly hue of death.

 _No, please_ , Luke sobbed, struggling to tear himself free of the dream. _Why? **Why?**_

He raised the lightsaber. Rage and hate surged in him like a black tide. The Force screamed around him, a vortex that threatened to tear him out of himself.

It _did_ tear him out of himself. A part of him startled awake, saw the weapon in his hand, his nephew’s dark eyes open now, wide with fear and confusion. Luke tried to extinguish his weapon, to drop it. He tried to back up. He tried to call Ben’s name. His hands and voice wouldn’t obey.

Luke’s lightsaber swung. Ben called his own to his hand from the table beside him and ignited it just in time to catch Luke’s blade on his. Baring his teeth in the snarl of a cornered animal, Ben raised his hand, reached for the Force and pulled down the roof—

Luke jerked awake and sat up straight in bed, shedding the dream like foul water. His heart pounded. Sweat prickled along his hairline, down his neck and back, under his arms. His stomach lurched queasily.

He stumbled out of bed. He didn’t make it to the door. Bracing a hand against the wall, he leaned over and retched.

He did the same every time he woke from the dream. But no amount of sweating and vomiting, no amount of meditation and determination ever rid him of the taint of darkness that possessed him.

From the moment he’d dragged himself out of the wreckage of his nephew’s hut that night, he’d known that nothing ever would.

His hands shook now as he turned on the battery-powered lantern. They shook when he poured a cup of water to wash the foulness from his mouth. He breathed deeply to calm himself, but the hut’s walls seemed to close in. In the lantern’s bluish flare, he fumbled on clothes and boots. He wouldn’t risk sleep anymore. He pushed the door open and walked out into the soft, liquid glow of Kes’ night.

He walked toward the tree line, skirting the broken, hunchbacked shapes of the ruined huts. In the open air, the dream receded. He breathed easier. He reached through the Force for the comforting buzz and skitter of night life all around him. Not dark, not light, just alive, enmeshed in the weave and flow of the Force.

The trees closed around him. The starglow sifted through their leaves to lie in shifting pools on the ground. A nightflicker cheeped and launched itself into the air in a flash of black-and-white wings.

Luke stopped, leaned against a tree’s massive trunk and cast back, trying to remember when he… _changed_.

It was after they’d destroyed the second Death Star. After his father died killing the Emperor to save Luke’s life. They were celebrating on Endor—he remembered the drums and the warbling of reed pipes, X-wings streaking across the twilight sky against bursting flowers of fireworks.

A wave of dizzy nausea had overcome him. He’d stumbled outside into the clean forest night, gulping breath after breath of air fragrant with the rich scent of moss, the sharp one of evergreens. Against the dim columns of trees, three shimmering blue figures had appeared: Yoda, Ben Kenobi…and his father. Redeemed to the light. One with the Force. For a moment, he couldn’t breathe. He’d always told himself it must be grief—but it had felt like rage.

Later, during the award ceremony, when he stood with Han and Chewie in front of Leia, impossibly beautiful in her white gown and crown of dark braids, the sound of brass ringing in the air, blinding rage had swept him again. Hundreds of Rebellion faces glowed with joy and relief and triumph, and for an instant, he’d hated them all.

 _Grief_ , he told himself again. After all, his father had been taken from him the moment he’d turned from a ruthless monster to a man. And now, Luke would never be able to know the man. He’d grown up fatherless. He’d live the rest of his life fatherless. What right did all these people have to be glad, when _everything_ had been taken from him?

He’d fought the feeling back. He’d meditated. It was the dark side. He couldn’t give in to grief and resentment. This was why the Jedi forbade attachments. He must honor Darth Vader’s sacrifice even when his name would be synonymous with evil as long as it was known.

Luke immersed himself even more deeply in learning the ways of the Jedi. He studied every method of nurturing the light and driving out the dark.

The darkness slept after that, but fitfully. The flashes of rage came and went at odd times. After the Battle of Jakku. When the Senate was reconvened. When the armistice with the Empire was signed.

There in the gleam of Kes’ nightbound forest, the memories came like a drowning flood, swift and irresistible.

Luke remembered how jealousy had churned his gut as Leia and Han grew closer. When they married, he remembered how he hadn’t been able to bring himself to attend the ceremony.

It was horrifying. She was his _sister!_ The thought that some disgusting part of him wanted to possess her…

When Leia told him she was pregnant, Luke meditated for days to quell the jealousy. When she told him of the darkness she sensed in the child in her womb, he’d reassured her. That had been easy. He’d been ecstatic to hear it.

 _It will be mine_. The thought whispered through his mind. _It will be mine after all_.

When he was alone again in his room, he’d taken his lightsaber and turned it toward himself, his thumb on the activation switch. If he hadn’t convinced himself it would be giving in to the dark, he would’ve ignited his weapon and let it impale him.

The memory made Luke fling himself away from the tree, striding furiously into the forest as if he could escape the tormenting images. Still, they came…

He dedicated himself to searching out ever more arcane Jedi lore on ever more distant planets. It had the added benefit of keeping him away from Leia and Han and their child.

The darkness slept. The torment ended. At last, he’d conquered it.

Cautiously, carefully, he allowed himself back into Leia’s life. Ben was a solitary, too-solemn boy by then, so strong with the Force it was almost frightening. Luke felt an inexplicable draw to his nephew that sometimes almost felt like the darkness he’d finally battled into submission. He came and went in young Ben’s life like a wind, daring to touch only lightly and briefly.

When it became clear that Snoke’s malign influence was only increasing, Luke knew he’d have to do something. He could train Ben. He could help him. He could show him how to achieve his potential in the light, how to resist the dark. Luke started his Jedi academy.

The darkness remained quiet, even when Leia sent him an urgent holo-recording. The news had come out: Darth Vader, the most hated man in the galaxy, was her father— _their_ father.

“I don’t know what Ben will do when he finds out.” Her voice had shaken. Even in the holo, Luke could see how her lips trembled, how tightly her hands clenched together. “I should’ve told him when he was old enough to understand. I never wanted him to find out like this…”

That night, Luke opened the box he kept his most personal belongings in: A necklace his aunt had worn, recovered from the ashes of the farm on Tatooine. His Rebel pilot’s helmet. A pitted, blackened fragment of the first Death Star. A woven bracelet of reeds and nuts the Ewok shaman Logray had given him for protection.

He dug down through the layers of his life to the very bottom of the box, where his fingers touched what he’d kept hidden there for so many years. He never took it out to look at. But wherever he went, it always went with him—

Darth Vader’s helmet, melted and distorted by the funeral pyre Luke had lit with his own hands.

For the first time since that night on Endor, when Luke took it from the pyre’s cooling ashes, he’d looked down into the empty, skull-like eye sockets, the sagging and toothless breathing apparatus. Emotion had flared in him, too brief and flickering to identify. Without thinking about it, he made a decision. Tucking the helmet into a fold of his robes, he stood.

His students were all in the hall for their nightly meal. Using the Force to conceal himself, Luke moved across the compound to Ben’s hut, entering and leaving again like a ghost.

He left the helmet where Ben would find it.

It would be some time before the news about Darth Vader trickled into the secluded school. Rumors, whispers, secretive side-glances announced when it had. Luke knew when the whispers finally reached Ben—he flew into one of his rages.

Shaking free of memory and remorse, Luke found himself standing in a clearing in the woods. He stared up at the thick clouds of stars that swarmed the sky.

After that night he’d stood over his sleeping nephew, the night that proved he hadn’t conquered the darkness after all, he’d done the only thing he could. He took himself away and lost himself. He cut himself off from the Force—from the dark, the light, from everything.

Then Rey came, bringing with her the galaxy, the Force, everything he’d fled. He still didn’t trust himself. He’d done his best to get rid of her. Now…

He squeezed his eyes shut, clenched his fists.

“What was I thinking?” His voice came out strained and desperate.

Now, if Finn brought her, it wouldn’t be only Rey he faced. It would be the thing that had possessed him to try to kill Ben that night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, you read that right. Kylo’s version of events at Luke’s temple was the truth—Luke really did try to kill him. There was no “almost” or “for the briefest moment.” And it wasn’t because he saw Ben’s darkness—it was because he saw his light.


	55. Reunions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Rey returns to Takodana... to mixed results.

Rey hadn’t been sure how she’d feel returning to Takodana. So much had happened there. But there was no dread or sadness or fear—only anticipation and nervousness. Maz would be there. Would Chewie? Would anyone else?

She almost bounced in her seat when she caught sight of a Corellian freighter as they landed. Picking up her excitement, Kreet chirped on her shoulder. She was out of the cockpit and at the hatch before any of her guards.

“Ma’am, we’ll want to reconnoiter before you disembark,” EL-4906 said.

Rey hated using his call number, but he didn't want a new name. _I don’t like everything I did_ , he’d told her, _or everything that was done to me, but I’ve done my duty the best I can, and I’m good at what I do. Me being here with you proves that_.

He did agree to let her call him “E.L.,” since his stormtrooper designation might not go over well with everyone they met.

“You know,” she replied, “We can’t go marching in there like I’m some kind of princess with her bodyguards. We’ll already stand out too much.”

“No, ma’am,” one of the female troopers said.

They called her Snap. She was a few years older than Rey, with bright orange hair and more freckles than Rey had realized a person could possibly have. _I can shoot_ , she told Rey without a hint of brag, _a flying insect out of the air at five meters_.

“We’re here _slumming_.” Snap drew out the word as if savoring it.

Rey had never heard the term before.

E.L. saw her confusion. “’Slumming’ is when fine people go into a rough crowd for fun and curiosity.”

 _Since when am I “fine people?”_ Rey just sighed. She knew better than to say it aloud.

E.L. and Judge, another of her guards, extended the ramp and disappeared outside for a few minutes. Rey stood by the hatch and fidgeted, breathing in the soft, tantalizing scent of Takodana’s lush, green woods. In spite of the terror she’d found in those woods, she couldn’t get enough of their lush, green beauty. Maybe because the terror had led to something very different.

Rey was down the ramp and outside before E.L. finished giving his all-clear, looking around as eagerly as she had the first time she’d come here.

“Ma’am,” E.L. protested.

Rey only gave a distracted wave and hurried on, her guards rushing to catch up.

She stopped when they came in sight of the castle grounds. She knew the castle had been destroyed—she’d seen it toppling under the hail of First Order fire. It was something else to see the open space and bare dirt now, only piles of stones and timbers and other building materials where the ancient building had stood. She swallowed hard.

As they passed the flurry of noise and activity that was the castle rising from its ruins, they drew attention.

Of course they did. Her guards might not wear stormtrooper armor, but they moved and looked like trained guards. Rey’s snug leggings and calf-high boots and trim tunic were clean, new, of good-quality material, and completely out of place on rough-and-tumble Takodana. Rey doubted many would recognize the lightsaber at her belt, but no one could mistake the purpose of the staff over her shoulder.

The other woman trooper, Nee, gave Rey a little, unexpected nudge. “Don’t worry about the stares, ma’am. Watch.”

Nee pointed to a droid lifting a stone block. “Look!” She giggled.

Nee looked like a queen, Rey thought, with aristocratic cheekbones, skin the color of oiled bronze and a crown of glossy black braids. Coming from her, the giggle just seemed…wrong.

“I always thought they used heavy equipment for building!” Nee said breathlessly. “I’ve never seen it done like this.”

That earned them scowls from all the workers in earshot.

 _Okay_ , Rey thought, resigned. _We look fancy. We might as well act fancy_. Kreet, riding on her shoulder and chittering with interest, only completed the image.

She elbowed Nee back, glaring at her. “Shh! Don’t point. You’ll cause trouble.”

Nee went round-eyed and put her hand over her mouth. That was part of the act, too—Rey felt it.

A haphazard jumble of cargo containers looked like they might be the temporary quarters for Maz’s cantina. Remembering the stone-paved courtyard, the many-colored flags fluttering in the breeze, the statue of Maz with upraised, welcoming arms, Rey felt sad.

A heavy industrial door groaned when they pushed through into the dimness of the cantina, Rey and the other two women ahead, the three men bringing up the rear. Snap and Nee whispered excitedly together, but Rey was conscious of their watchfulness.

Extending her senses into the space filled with too many smells and sounds, movement and bodies, she felt curiosity and suspicion, contempt and interest. She scanned the close-packed, mismatched tables. She caught sight of Chewie the same moment he noticed her—his eyes went wide.

“ _Rey!”_ he roared.

He lurched to his feet and pushed through the other patrons toward her. Those who could, got out of his way. The rest he shoved unceremoniously aside.

Behind her, Rey heard the sound of safeties clicking off. She waved her hands frantically. “No! He’s my—”

Before she could finish, Chewie closed her in his huge, furry arms and lifted her off her feet. Kreet screeched in alarm and opened his mouth wide.

“Don’t you dare!” Rey gasped, pinning him to her shoulder with one hand.

Chewie set her back on her feet just as quickly, snarling at her embarrassment of protectors. “ _What’s this?”_ he growled.

“Is this the Wookie you told us about, ma’am?” E.L. said.

“Yes, this is—”

“What’s going on here?”

Two massive bouncers lumbered up. One was a horned Devaronian, his hand riding the butt of an enormous blaster. Rey didn’t know what species the other was—something grey and sort of hunchbacked with claws and spines and fangs.

E.L. and Judge shifted to face the bouncers. Her arms held out protectively, Rey stood between the snarling Wookie and her blaster-bristling bodyguards. Kreet made a sound somewhere between a growl and a howl and scuttled distractingly from one shoulder to the other.

“Everything’s fine!” she said quickly, feeling things fast spiraling out of control. “We’re fine. A misunderstanding. Just— Can you not all kill each other, please?”

“Is that Rey?” a woman’s sharp voice shouted.

Everyone turned. The bouncers dropped their hands from their weapons and stepped back. Chewie’s snarls turned to grumbles. Rey let go a breath and dropped her arms, but still stood in front of Chewie.

Maz stepped into the middle of everyone, propped her hands on hips and glared around. “No one draws a blaster in this place if they want to stay, and stay in once piece.” She pointed at Rey’s guards. “So you can put those away.”

None of them seemed inclined to obey.

“Yes. Please do.” Rey wasn’t sure if they’d obey _her_ , especially if they decided protecting her was more important than avoiding a firefight.

Finally, E.L. nodded. Blasters went back into holsters.

“I’ve got this, boys,” Maz said to the bouncers while not taking her eyes off Rey’s guards.

The two bouncers melted back into the general clientele.

Maz’s eyes narrowed behind her lenses. “We’re going to find a nice, quiet table, sit and have a drink and catch up,” she said. “You,” she said to Rey’s guards, “can keep watch on her from over there.” She pointed to a couple of tables nearby.

Rey could sense E.L.’s refusal.

“It’s okay,” she told him. “I promise it is. This is Maz and Chewie.”

They knew about Maz and Chewie. She’d told them about them on the way.

E.L. nodded again, but didn’t relax.

Maz led Rey and Chewie to the promised quiet table. Rey unslung her staff and leaned it within easy reach. E.L. and the other guards, Rey noticed, didn’t sit at the tables Maz had suggested, but scattered themselves in a rough semicircle around her at a discreet distance.

Maz, watching keenly, noticed. “Who’re they?”

“My bodyguards,” Rey said with a sigh.

“Bodyguards, or guards?” Maz said.

“Bodyguards,” Rey said firmly. “I’m not a prisoner.”

Kreet jumped to the table, crouched in front of Rey and glared at Maz and Chewie, a miniature guardian beast.

Chewie bent down and roared at him. Kreet dropped to the floor with a squeak.

Maz studied her. “You look good.”

“ _It looks like he’s been feeding you_ ,” Chewie grunted. “ _He always did fuss over the little creatures he rescued_.”

A laugh popped out before Rey could stop it. No _wonder_ Kylo had been so intent when she ate. “I didn’t know. He never told me about that.”

Their drinks and platters of food arrived. Maz watched Rey while she ate with her usual enthusiasm (although with better manners now), occasionally slipping tidbits to Kreet under her chair as an apology.

“You’re here, you’re on your own.” Maz helped herself to a piece of fruit and a pastry. “I know it’s for a reason. Before we get to it, let’s hear about you. There’s a lot of speculation going around. Seeing you now, I’m guessing most of it is wrong.”

Rey tensed. “What _speculation?”_

“ _That you’d turned to the enemy_ ,” Chewie growled.

“That you’d turned to the dark side,” Maz added.

Rey drew a long breath. She knew she’d have to deal with this. She’d better get used to it.

“You knew where I went,” she said to Chewie. “And why.”

Chewie leaned an elbow on the table, his blue gaze pinning her. “ _Did you bring him back?”_

“He came back,” Rey said.

Maz tapped a long finger on the table. “He came back to the light.”

They wouldn’t understand. Not yet. She had to show them, somehow.

“Ben saved my life. More than once, actually, but there on the _Supremacy_ , Snoke would’ve killed me. He was going to make _Ben_ kill me. Ben killed Snoke instead.” She laid her hand over Chewie’s huge, furry one and said gently, “Snoke made him kill Han. It almost destroyed him.”

Chewie snarled. “ _I didn’t see a blaster at the boy’s head_.”

Rey leaned forward. “You don’t know what Snoke did to him. Ever since he was a little _kid_. It’s a wonder he’s still sane.”

“He’s told you this,” Maz said drily.

“I’ve been in his mind.,” Rey shot back. “ _A lot_. I know what he went through.”

Maz and Chewie shared a look.

“You love him,” Maz said.

“We love each other,” Rey said. “We’re betrothed.”

“ _Betrothed!”_ Maz said and Chewie roared the same time.

“Rey!” a familiar voice called.

Rey looked up to see Finn squeezing past tables toward them. Behind him, Snap shot to her feet, her blaster drawn. Below table-level, something else bumped through people in Finn’s wake, issuing beeps and squeals of excitement.

Rey jumped to her own feet and waved Snap down. “Finn!” she shouted. A very familiar astromech droid barreled behind him. “BB-8!”

Like Chewie had, Finn rushed up and closed his arms around her. He also spun her around.

“You’re here!” He let her go, set her back and looked her up and down. “Are you okay? Did he hurt you?”

It was what he’d said on Starkiller. Her throat suddenly ached.

She squeezed his arms and smiled. “Does it look like it?”

He looked her up and down again, searching for something he clearly wasn’t finding.

BB-8 bumped her shins insistently, demanding attention. Kreet darted out from under the chair, raised himself on all six limbs and gave a rippling growl. BB-8 rolled backward with a startled _bwoop!_

Rey went down to one knee and nudged Kreet aside. “You be nice to BB-8,” she told the hassash. “I knew him before you.” She put a hand BB-8’s globe. “I didn’t expect to see you here!”

 _Poe sent me with Finn_ , BB-8 beeped. _Have you seen him?_

“I helped him and the others escape from the _Finalizer_ ,” Rey said. “After that…no. I’m sorry.”

The little droid keened sadly and drooped.

“There. You see?” Maz said.

Rey looked up to see she was speaking to Finn. She sensed this was part of some past argument and wondered what it was.

Finn’s jaw was set. “You helped them _escape_ ,” he repeated. “Kylo Ren didn’t let them go.”

Rey stood again. “No.”

“Why didn’t you go with them?” Finn demanded.

Rey met his gaze. “They thought I betrayed them. They left me.”

“They left you with…” Finn said in disbelief.

“Yes.” She tried to keep her tone calm. This wasn’t the time to dig up the resentment and anger and hurt.

She must not’ve done a good job, because Finn quickly changed the subject. “So. Who’s betrothed?”

Rey hadn’t considered how many subjects were a minefield. She put on a big smile. She’d learned how to bluff her way through tricky situations a long time ago.

“Me!”

Finn rocked back. “You! Who’ve you known…” Horror dawned on his face. “No. Rey. Tell me you’re not betrothed to Kylo Ren.”

Her smile wilted.

“No,” he said again, shaking his head. “C’mon, Rey, you _can’t_. You can’t _marry_ _Kylo Ren!”_

“Not right away, no,” she said gently. “But I will.”

“Did he force you?” Finn said fiercely. “Did he threaten you? Is that what happened?” He grabbed her by the shoulders. “You’re here now, Rey. You’re safe. You don’t have to go back.” He looked past her to Chewie and Maz. “Tell her. Tell her she doesn’t have to go back. We’ll make sure nothing happens to her.”

E.L. and her other two male guards were suddenly there, E.L. with Finn in a headlock. Lucky, the other guard, and Judge had their blasters out and pointed at Chewie and Maz.

“Take your hands off her,” E.L. told Finn very, very quietly.

Chewie shoved to his feet with a snarl. In the cantina around them, silence fell.

“Stop,” Rey snapped. She didn’t see Snap and Nee, but she could feel them closing in. “E.L., let him go.”

From behind Finn, E.L. met her gaze.

“He’s my friend. He’s only upset and worried about me,” Rey said. “A lot of people are going to be upset with me. If you try to kill them all, this isn’t going to work. Now _let him go_.”

“We know who he is,” Judge said. “He’s the traitor.”

“He’s no more a traitor than you are,” Rey flared. “Except he saw what was happening a lot sooner.”

That seemed to finally get through to them.

E.L. let Finn go and stepped back. “My apologies.”

Finn shrugged sharply and straightened his jacket. “Sure. Anytime.”

E.L. jerked his chin at Judge and Lucky. They drifted back to their watchposts. The sudden quiet in the cantina slowly gave way to the normal hum of voices and laughter and music.

Rey put a hand on Finn’s arm. “I’m sorry. I didn’t expect them to be so… _serious_ about protecting me. Are you okay?”

He wouldn’t meet her gaze. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine.”

“I’m beginning to worry about you, Rey,” Maz said. “People always seem to start fighting when you’re around.”

Rey stared at the little woman, horrified. She was right. “I’m—”

Maz waved her into her seat. “I’m not blaming you. The Force swirls around you so strongly, it’ll happen.”

Rey sat, then looked at Finn. He stood, his shoulders hunched, then finally sat, too.

Apologies didn’t seem to be helping. Maybe an explanation would. “Let me tell you about the Je’daii holocron I found,” she said.

Maz straightened. “ _Je’daii?_ Not Jedi?”

“Yes,” Rey said. “I opened it.”

Maz’s eyes went wide. “ _Did_ you!”

“Can someone please explain to us non-Force users?” Finn said.

“The Je'daii was an ancient order of Force users,” Maz said. “They believed the Force was meant to be balanced between dark and light, not divided between them. If Rey was able to open a Je'daii holocron...” Maz eyed her, clearly putting together that Rey couldn't have done it if she was all light side.

Rey nodded in answer to her unspoken assumption. "The guardian of the holocron said the Force needs to be brought into balance. When we were on Jannessi, we were told the same thing. So I think…” Rey wet her lips, feeling like she was pretending to know more than she did. “I think everything that’s happening is because the Force is trying to restore balance.”

Maz folded up her lenses, crossed her arms and sat back, staring into space.

“ _Wookies honor the day and the night, hunter and prey, birth and death, happiness and grief_ ,” Chewie moaned. “ _Everything has its place, its time, its purpose. Life wouldn’t be without all these things together_.”

Sitting forward again, Maz gestured at the haphazard patchwork of her cantina. “The dark side is destructive. You can’t argue with that.”

“I don’t,” Rey said. “I don’t understand it all, but I’ve seen how it’s also protective. It’s a source of strength.”

Finn was looking more and more unhappy. Maz—she couldn’t read Maz, even with the Force.

Rey shook her head. “I’m doing a bad job explaining.” Kylo would be much better at this part. “But I’ve seen how the dark side and the light side can work together. How they’re…they’re _stronger_ together.”

Finn sat with his eyes glued to the table, his lips a set line. She swallowed a frustrated sigh. If she couldn’t convince her friends, how could she hope to convince anyone else?

She tried again. “Have you heard about the rebuilding on the Rim worlds? The slavers and pirates and cartels the First Order took out?”

“ _We’ve heard_ ,” Chewie grunted. “ _It sounded like the kind of story Han would tell_.”

Rey couldn’t stop a smile. “It’s true. That was our people. We took three First Order ships. We’re trying to make the First Order into what it should be. Something Hux won’t like.”

“Hmm,” Maz said. “Now I think we’re coming to the part that explains why you’re here.”

“I came looking for the Resistance,” Rey said. “We want to propose an alliance.”

Finn snorted. “Rey, Kylo Ren only wants to find the Resistance so he can wipe them out once and for all.”

Rey would _not_ allow herself to get angry. “It was my idea, Finn. Kylo didn’t want me to go, but he respects me enough to let me do something I think is important.”

The shot hit home: Finn’s jaw knotted and his eyes slid away.

Chewie made a noise Rey interpreted as _I’m not surprised_. She wondered why for an instant, then remembered Kylo’s mother was General Organa. Probably no one had _ever_ told Leia what to do.

“Even if we knew where to find them,” Maz said. “I’d tell you it isn’t a good idea.” Her mouth went flat. “The Resistance isn’t what it was under Leia Organa.”

Rey nodded. “I already know about that. That wasn’t the Resistance. It was Hux.”

“Hux!” Maz’s eyes went wide.

“He’s trying to do to us what we’ve done to him—make it look like someone is doing something they aren’t…” Rey stopped, looked from Maz to Chewie to Finn. “Wait. You don’t know where the Resistance is? I was sure…” she trailed off.

“The terror attacks are the first we’ve heard of the Resistance since the fleet was destroyed,” Maz said grimly. “And now you say it isn’t them.”

“No, but it’ll put them in a bad spot,” Rey said. “If I can reach them somehow, I hope to convince them how we can help each other.”

Finn looked up suddenly. She caught a flash of…hope, interest, _something_ from him.

“Even if we knew where to find them,” Maz said again, “I’d want to know what you’ve been doing since Chewbacca saw you last.”

“Right,” Rey said. She took a moment to steel herself. “I told you about Snoke.” She looked at Chewie. “You were right. That was a mistake. I didn’t think it all the way through.”

“ _You were sure you could slip on board, grab the boy and fly away with him_ ,” Chewie said.

Rey found sudden interest in the crumbs on her plate. “Well, yeah…I did.”

Maz barked a laugh. When Finn looked annoyed, she translated for him.

“When Hux took over after I helped the Resistance escape,” Rey said defensively, “Kylo did the same with me. I was going to try to steal a ship. He grabbed me and threw me into his Silencer instead.”

“He kidnapped you _again?”_ Finn said, outraged.

“It’s a good thing he did. I probably wouldn’t have gotten away on my own.”

“Rey—” Finn began.

Maz broke in before an argument could start. “What did Laharna Spaceport do to Kylo Ren that he treated it the same way he treated my castle?”

“That was the second time he saved my life.” Rey flicked a look at Finn. “Some gangsters tried to steal his ship. They drugged me and took me away and were going to sell me.”

Finn stiffened and hissed a breath through his teeth.

“Ben came after me and made sure they never do anything like that again. Then when I went into withdrawals from the drug, he helped me through and showed me how to use the Force to heal myself.”

“Rey,” Finn said. “Are you sure—”

“ _It sounds like the kind of thing Han would do_ ,” Chewie put in. “ _He’d swoop in for Leia no matter what was between them_.”

The pause while Maz translated gave Rey a chance to recover from her surprise. But why was she surprised? Han had swooped in to save her and the Resistance—and his son. It was suddenly hard to talk. She cleared her throat.

“When we were at Canto Bight, we met some friends of yours,” Rey told Finn, hoping to tell him _something_ he’d like to hear. “The three kids who helped you and your friend Rose.”

Finn blinked. “Canto Bight! What were you doing there?”

“Making life difficult for Hux,” she explained. “Ben found them when he was chasing some gangsters who’d attacked me. One of the kids can use the Force. We took all three back with us.”

Finn looked like he was trying to catch up, then his brows went down. “ _You let Kylo Ren take those kids to the First Order?”_ His voice shook with fury. “Do you know what they’ll do to them?”

Rey’d had enough. “Yeah. They won’t beat them and starve them and make them sleep in a stable. Have you listened to anything I’ve said? Do you really think I’d take kids someplace they’d be mistreated?” She glared at him. “You don’t know me at all, do you, Finn?”

“I thought I did,” he shot back. “But the Rey I knew would never agree to join Kylo Ren. She’d never _marry_ him.”

The disappointment on his face made her heart hurt. She hadn’t expected him to understand—not after everything he’d been through—but she’d hoped. It was a stupid hope, but it still made something inside crumple to realize it.

“This is personal for you,” she said. “I understand. You watched him kill Han. He tried to kill you.”

Sitting back, Finn gave a single nod.

Gathering herself up, Rey went on ruthlessly, “He knew you’d disobeyed orders during your mission on Jakku. Did you know that?”

Finn looked suddenly uncertain. “He stopped and stared at me, afterwards. I was sure…” he trailed off.

“He didn’t turn you in,” Rey said. “Maybe you should ask why.”

“Okay, why?”

“Because he respected you for what you did.”

“He respected me so much he almost killed me on Starkiller Base,” Finn scoffed.

Rey leaned forward, enunciating each word. “ _Because he was ashamed_. You did what Kylo felt he should’ve done—you refused to bow to something you knew was wrong.”

That silenced Finn. Chewie gave a low growl.

“He can’t change the past,” Rey said. “But I’m telling you what we’re doing now. What we’re _trying_ to do. You tell me if it’s good or bad.”

Finn ran a hand down his face. “It’s not that simple, Rey. I’ve heard how the dark side seduces people—”

Rey pounced. “From Luke Skywalker?”

Finn gave a guilty start.

“The same Luke Skywalker who refused to teach me, even when I told him I was afraid?” She didn’t try to keep the anger and bitterness from her voice. “The one who refused to lift a finger to help his own _sister?_ That’s the light side, Finn. Tell me how much better it is than the dark.”

Finn’s gaze fell.

“Go ahead and hate Kylo Ren for what he’s done. You can’t hate him any more than he hates himself. But don’t tell me how lovely and wonderful the light is.”

Rey stood, grabbed her staff and slung it over her shoulder. “E.L. will pay the tab for our food,” she told Maz. “We can talk about reparations for your castle before we go, if you’d like. I think it’s something Kylo would want to do. If he doesn’t, _I_ do.”

Maz nodded, her face grim. Rey couldn’t guess about what—there were so many things to be grim about. “We’ll talk soon,” she said. “You still have a bounty on your head. You shouldn’t stay here long.” Maz grinned suddenly. “I don’t want all our hard work destroyed again.”

Rey moved to Chewie’s chair. Even seated, he was taller than she was.

She put her arms around his shaggy neck and hugged him tight. “Thank you,” she whispered. “Thank you for trusting me. Thank you for still having hope.”

Chewie hugged her back. “ _That boy better appreciate what he has_.”

“He told me I deserve better than him. I almost hit him.”

Chewie barked a laugh. “ _Good!”_ He let her go and set her back. “ _I’ll talk to you again before you go_.”

Rey looked down at Finn where he sat. “On Jannessi, the lightside healer who saved Kylo’s life told us people would try to divide us. I’m sorry to see one of them is my friend.” She hesitated, then put her hand on his shoulder. “Thank you for caring about me, Finn. You’re the first one who ever did. That means a lot to me.”

She bent down and held out a hand for Kreet to climb up. Fixing his three red eyes on Finn, he gave a warbling growl.

Rey laid a hand on BB-8’s head. “If I find the Resistance, I’ll tell them you’re here waiting for them.”

BB-8 gave a forlorn beep.

Rey walked out of the cantina, her guards following.

They crossed the building site in silence this time. She was conscious of her guards’ attention on her, their suspicion and displeasure. Even Kreet was subdued, humming softly in her ear and stroking her hair with one hand. Rey remembered now why she never allowed herself to feel excitement and anticipation. It usually ended up in disappointment. Nothing new; she could get used to it again.

The problem was…she didn’t know if she could.

The shouts and bangs and whirring of construction fell behind as they approached the woods.

“We’re heading out again soon,” she told her guards. “I’ll want to talk to Chewie and Maz again first.”

 _Where_ they’d go, she didn’t know. Maybe D’Qar, or Crait. She might be able to find _something_ helpful there. After all, she was a scavenger. She’d spent her whole life finding useful things in the most hopeless of junk.

“Rey!” Finn’s voice called behind her.

For just an instant, she considered not turning. She hadn’t realized she was that angry with him. But that wasn’t fair. She couldn’t blame him for being dismayed and disappointed.

She stopped.

Finn stopped a few meters back, panting—he’d run after her. Her anger withered away.

Nee watched her sidelong. They were all waiting for her decision.

“I’ll go talk to him,” she said.

Judge started to go with her.

Rey held up a hand. “No, it’s okay. I’ll stay in sight.”

She walked back to Finn, in sight of her watching guards but out of earshot. Stopping in front of him, she waited.

He ran a hand down his face. “Rey, I’m sorry. I know I hurt you. I had to.”

She narrowed her eyes. “You _had_ to hurt me.”

On her shoulder, Kreet hissed.

Finn flicked the hassash a nervous glance. “I had to know where you stand. What you’re really trying to do.” He wet his lips. “Rey, I know where to find the Resistance.”

She caught her breath, then narrowed her eyes again. “Maz said you didn’t.”

“Maz doesn’t. Neither does Chewie. I do.”

Rey could sense Finn’s agitation. “Why only you, Finn?”

“They made me promise.” He held out his hands, pleading. “They’re so few. They’re barely surviving. I wasn’t supposed to tell anyone. But you—” He gave her a desperate, anguished look. “If what you’re saying is true, this could be the chance they need.”

“ _If_ it’s true,” she repeated. “If you don’t believe me, why are you telling me?”

“I _do_ believe you,” he said. “I believe you’re honest about what you’re trying to do. But it isn’t up to me, Rey. I can only give you the chance to talk to them.”

“What’s your idea?”

“I can take you to them,” he said in a rush. “ _Only_ you. If you go with armed First Order guards, they’ll be sure you’re the enemy.”

She sensed him through the Force, felt the same desperation and anguish that showed on his face.

“I can’t strand my guards on Takodana,” she said.

“I’ll get us a ship. The location has to remain secret, anyway.” He shifted his weight uncomfortably. “In case your guards decide to follow.”

Rey thought hard. It seemed like a bad deal… But Finn was right. She’d seen for herself what the Resistance had been reduced to. If it were her, she’d demand the same conditions. Her guards were with her to keep her safe—she _knew_ that. But she could imagine all kinds of situations where their zeal to protect her would end up getting them all killed, instead—or at least make it impossible to cut a deal.

“Okay,” she finally said. “But I won’t go unarmed. That’s _my_ condition.”

Finn nodded quickly, relief in every line of his body. “Their assignment is to protect you. Your guards won’t want to let you go alone.”

“You let me deal with that. When?”

“Tonight, oh-one-hundred hours. The construction workers are usually mostly in their bunks by then. There’s a big tree at the far end of the landing field that was knocked down in the attack. Did you see it? Meet me there.”

“I know the one.” She turned to go.

Finn caught her hand. “I _do_ care about you, Rey. You know that, right? You know I’d never want to hurt you.”

She covered his hand with her own. “I know. I understand.”

He nodded and let her go. “I’ll see you tonight.”

“I’ll be there.” She turned and walked back to her watching guards.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the love last week. Your comments and kudos give me life! 💕


	56. Pursuit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Kylo gets the holo Rey leaves, and Hux gets off on his own power.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for all the great comments last week! I love hearing your thoughts. You're a true gift. You make writing so much fun! 💕

Sleepless in her bunk aboard the shuttle, Rey wrestled for a while with the plan. She couldn’t just disappear. Thinking of how everyone would react—her guards, Maz, Chewie—she made a decision.

The tiny lights on the comm and control panel were like multicolored stars that brushed the faintest illumination through her cabin, only defining the edges of the small space. Air smelling faintly of the night woods outside hushed through a vent. Too cold. Rey wondered if she’d ever stop being cold unless she was snuggled in Kylo’s arms.

She reached out through the Force. Life flickered and moved as far as she could reach—her guards asleep in their bunks, one awake in the cockpit on watch. Farther out, the familiar knot of darkness that was the hassash, stalking the woods for some hapless prey. The crews and passengers of the other ships on the landing field, the close-crowded barracks of Maz’s workers.

Rey furled her awareness back to the shuttle. Reaching out, she gently pushed her guards into a deeper sleep. She rolled out of her bunk, dressed, gathered her lightsaber and her staff and made her way to the cockpit.

Lucky was the one on watch. He was slumped in the pilot’s seat, snoring, his chin on his chest and one arm dangling over the armrest. _Sorry!_ Rey thought at him and slid into the co-pilot’s chair.

Activating the holorecorder, she began recording a message:

“I’ve found someone who has contact with the Resistance. They’re in hiding and will only meet with me if I come alone. You won’t like it. I know that. But this might be the only chance I’ll find. I’m going armed, and Kreet will be with me. Do _not_ take anything out on my guards, Kylo. They don’t know anything about it, and I’ve made sure they can’t interfere.”

She paused the recording, taking a minute to compose herself.

Scavenging through the mazes of huge ships through utter darkness, Rey had always strung a lead line to guide her back out. The decision to leave her guards and the shuttle was like cutting one of those lines. Like leaving Kylo all over again.

A sucking dread curdled in her middle. She took a deep breath and pushed it away, reminding herself of all the reasons she’d decided to take this journey.

She started the recording again. “You know I can take care of myself. I’ll contact you again as soon as I can.”

 _I love you_ , she wanted to say. But she couldn’t say that on a holo, even a secure one. She just gazed into the holocamera a moment, hoping he’d see it in her eyes.

“May the Force be with you,” she said finally and ended the recording.

She made one more recording for E.L. and the others: “I’ve found a lead on the Resistance, but I have to follow it alone. I’ve made a recording for Kylo explaining that this decision is on my own head, and you aren’t responsible. I’d be grateful if you’d tell Chewie and Maz where I’ve gone, since I wasn’t able to tell them myself.” She switched off the holorecorder.

She stood and headed to the shuttle’s hatch, leaving the “message waiting’ light blinking on the control panel.

* * *

With a roar, Kylo slammed both fists down on the holoprojector. The holo of Rey flickered and winked out.

 _You won’t like it_ , she’d said.

“I won’t like it?” he gritted out. “I won’t _like_ it?”

She’d agreed to take guards. She _promised_ to take guards. And what did she do? She went off alone.

His hand fell to his lightsaber. Breathing hard, he gripped the hilt until his hand hurt, shaking with the need to destroy something.

No. No. He didn’t have _time_. He had to follow her _now_. Snatching up the bag already packed with clothes and gear, he turned for the door.

He’d already considered and discarded taking his Silencer. Now, he didn’t care. He didn’t have time to acquire something suitable, something commonplace enough to blend in while packing some serious speed and firepower—

The solution came to him. He stopped short, staring blindly across his quarters. _No_.

Oh, yes. It was _perfect_. Exactly what he needed.

Kylo shook his head, arguing with that smug, insistent thought: _She’s the fastest ship in the galaxy, kid_. _Good in a scrap, too—I made sure of that a long time ago_.

The voice was so clear, Kylo was sure it had spoken aloud. He glanced around the black-paneled room, half-expecting to see a Force ghost. But only Force-users became one with the Force when they died. And Han Solo—

His father had no reason to bother coming back from the dead to help him, anyway.

An ache built behind his eyes and in his throat. Clenching his jaw, Kylo swallowed it down.

The past swirled persistently around him—voices, images, emotions. If it wasn’t the Force, it was _something_ that wanted him to turn around and face his past.

He clenched his fists and stared at his secure comm panel. Inside his gloves, his hands were slick with sweat.

He sat down, activated the comm and keyed in a special code, one only he knew, one that signaled only one comm unit in the galaxy. That code hadn’t even entered his mind for…how many years? Ten? More? Why should it? What was the point? But his fingers tapped it out unerringly on the keyscreen.

When the screen showed an active connection, he typed: _Are you there? We need to talk_.

He waited. One minute. Five. Ten. Endless seconds ticking by on the chrono.

Finally, a response blinked on the screen: _Who is this?_

 _Ben_ , he replied.

Another long pause. Kylo clenched and unclenched his fists, concentrated on keeping his breathing slow and even. Finally, he shoved to his feet, unwilling to waste any more time.

The response came through:  _Prove it_.

The code proved it; Kylo suspected that wasn’t the proof being demanded.

 _I had nightmares_ , he typed back. _You’d come into my room and sing songs to chase away the evil spirits of the understory_.

_What do you want?_

_I want to keep Rey safe._

The pause this time was brief. The only response was a string of numbers—time and coordinates.

Kylo let out a breath and keyed in: _I’ll be there_.

* * *

Hux sat in his chair on a balcony high on Coruscant, the ceaseless wind of the ecumenopolis’ heights teasing his immaculate hair out of order. Annoyed, he slicked it back into place.

His security team had cleared the residents of all buildings for a radius of ten city blocks. The crawl of aircars over the skylanes was blissfully absent here. The old, heavily-fortified Imperial Palace was visible just to the right, a looming monolith of interlocking pyramids flanking a central tower. It had once been, he’d learned, a Jedi temple. He imagined Emperor Palpatine had relished the idea of a Sith holding court there.

Hux sneered. _He_ certainly wouldn’t be holding court at the seat of worn-out, obsolete religions. It was fitting their symbol should be destroyed to make way for an order founded on the hard, rational powers of science and technology.

He imagined the screams of horror welling up from the city’s thousands of levels as the old buildings came crashing down in a cloud of pulverized dust and debris; imagined the shocked, aghast faces of holonet announcers, the news holos played again and again for days, for _weeks_.

Hux began writing his speech in his head, rousing words of rebuilding and newness and the kind of orderly future only possible under the right leader—a strong, capable leader. How only Supreme Leader Hux could protect the galaxy from the vicious perpetrators of atrocity, how he and he alone could stem the merciless tide of terror and chaos.

“Supreme Leader.” His personal attendant’s voice came from behind him, breaking in on his reverie. “Darvis Klee has arrived.”

With a whirr of repulsors, Hux turned his chair. “Ah. Good. Show him in.”

His attendant bowed and disappeared within the building. Hux followed, guiding his chair into a windowless room containing only a table of rare black Laroon wood and chairs upholstered in black and blood-red damask. To ensure the secrecy and security of meetings held here, his guards stood behind a series of panels bearing the First Order emblem. A single word or the touch of a control and the panels would swing open to admit them, their weapons ready to cut down any threat.

Hux guided his chair to the head of the table and folded his gloved hands on the glossy surface. Darvis Klee, head of the Security Bureau, stepped in a moment later.

The man looked tense. As well he should be.

Hux simply sat and stared at Klee. The other man met his gaze patiently and respectfully, but Hux could see his pulse jumping in temple and throat.

At last, Hux broke the increasingly tense silence. “Tell me this, Commissioner. How can a man cut a swath of destruction through the galaxy, commandeer a Security Bureau ship as well as two— _two_ —star destroyers, _then_ attack our allies under the flag of the First Order _and_ destroy the First Order’s financial standing.” His voice got higher and louder as he went on. “All within a space of three weeks, and yet the only piece of intelligence I’ve received came from an obscure crime syndicate—one which, I might add, was entirely wiped out _on the orders of_ Kylo Ren.” If Hux had the use of his legs, he would’ve leaned over and shouted in the face of this incompetent underling. “Explain to me, Commissioner Klee, the reason for your organization’s _abject_ failure.”

“As you say, Supreme Leader, they have access to many of our resources. We’ve put in place measures—”

Hux cut the man off. “I’m not interested in details, Commissioner. I want results. Are you capable of providing them?”

“I have no doubt of it, Supreme Leader,” Klee said calmly.

Bravado. Hux sneered. “I fear you’ve given me reason to doubt.”

He reached down and touched a button on the armrest of his chair. The panels around the room swung open. His gold-armored guards stepped in, blasters drawn and ready.

Klee’s calm façade finally broke. He leapt to his feet. “Supreme Leader—!”

His guards opened fire. Klee jerked and spun as blaster bolts riddled him, then went down. The guards raised their weapons and stepped back.

“Excellent,” Hux said and tapped another button on his chair. “Send in Deputy Commissioner Yanish,” he said into the built-in comm.

In another moment, the door whisked open again. A compact, balding man stepped in, glanced at the smoking body on the floor and immediately back to Hux again.

He bowed his head. “Supreme Leader.”

“I’ve decided to promote you,” Hux said. “Congratulations, Commissioner Yanish.”

“I’m most grateful, Supreme Leader.”

Hux folded his hands once more. “I have a new mission for the Security Bureau, one which, I hope, you’ll be better able to handle than your predecessor. It will require the most unwavering loyalty from the command and officers of two star destroyers, men and women prepared to go to the utmost lengths for their Supreme Leader.”

“I believe that speaks for the entire First Order, Supreme Leader,” Yanish said.

“Naturally,” Hux drawled. “I’m speaking of a level of dedication above the usual. The mission I have in mind will require them to give their lives and the lives of their entire crews for the good of the First Order. There can be no question. No hesitation. Only eagerness to obey when the order is given. Can you provide such people?”

Yanish bowed his head. “Of course, Supreme Leader. When will the mission take place?”

Hux leaned back, steepled his fingers and watched the other man closely. “On the day of my coronation.”

Yanish’s throat bobbed in a swallow. Hux wished the new Security Bureau chief was more expressive than the old one. He’d’ve enjoyed watching him squirm at the tight timeline. Last-minute decisions were always valuable in keeping his staff off balance. It made it more difficult for them to form alliances and plots of their own.

“Yes, Supreme Leader,” Yanish said. “May I know the details of the plan? It will help me choose the appropriate officers.”

“We’ll discuss that in a moment, Commissioner.” Hux gestured dismissively at the body on the floor. “After this mess is cleaned up.”

 * * *

The _Millennium Falcon_ was already waiting at the rendezvous point when Kylo’s shuttle dropped out of hyperspace. He wasn’t prepared for the rage and pain that swept him at the sight of it. The last time he’d seen it, he’d just been deposited on Kes, foisted off on an uncle he barely knew.

His father hadn’t even gone with him to help settle him in. Just awkwardly clapped him on the shoulder and said, “See ya ‘round, kid.”

Ben had stood watching as the hatch closed on him. Ignoring Luke’s efforts to draw him away, he watched as the _Falcon_ lifted off. He was still watching when it was only a blue dot in the sky. He could’ve used the Force to pull it back. He’d been too angry and betrayed to waste the effort. When Luke tried again to get him to come along, he just stalked off into the trees, wanting only to be alone.

The docking procedure gave Kylo time to find a measure of calm. The _Falcon_ slowly grew closer as the pilot maneuvered the shuttle into docking position, finally disappearing from the viewport as it lined up below the shuttle. There was a bump, a clunk, the whine and hum of machinery as the docking clamp engaged. Air hissed as the two ships coupled.

His lightsaber at his belt was a familiar weight. The blaster strapped to his thigh wasn’t—never in his life had he carried a blaster. With the clothes—trousers and shirt in nondescript greys, a long coat to conceal the line of the blaster—he’d blend in as well as a man of his size could. There were plenty of big men in the galaxy. One more wouldn’t attract any more attention than the rest.

He picked up his bag, slung it over his shoulder.

“Good luck, sir,” the shuttle pilot said.

Kylo nodded distractedly, moved to the auxiliary hatch and opened the airlock. A thump as the hatch closed behind him, the hiss of air as the hatch at the other end opened. A familiar smell of grease and overheated wiring and decaying plastoid assaulted him. He took a long breath, stepped onto the mini-lift and let it lower him into a dingy, well-known corridor.

The ship looked the worse for wear after its sojourn on Jakku—dirtier, more broken-down, the patches more slapdash. His gut clenched in dismay. Had he just made the worst decision he possibly could?

In front of him stood a tiny, wizened, yellow-skinned being wearing enormous lenses and gimcrack beads and bangles. Arms folded, it looked him up and down, an expression of deep disapproval on its face. Even Snoke had never managed to make him feel so utterly inadequate.

“So you’re the infamous Kylo Ren,” the creature said. “I’m Maz Kanata. I told him to stay in the cockpit while I look you over. Kneel down, boy. You’re nearly as big as he is.”

Kylo went down on his knees, still towering over the little woman.

Without warning, Maz’s hand whipped out and slapped him. He rocked back in shock, his cheek stinging.

“That’s for my castle, Kylo Ren. That place stood for over a thousand years before you came along. I lost a lot of good friends that day.”

He glared at her, only holding his temper by reminding himself that this foolhardy creature had been kind to Rey.

Maz pursed her lips. “I see your father in your eyes.”

Kylo cut his gaze away. He could still feel hers burning into him.

“You _can_ still feel shame,” she said. “Good.”

Chewie appeared around a curve in the passageway. Kylo had forgotten how quickly the Wookie could move. Coming to a stop behind Maz, he glared down at Kylo.

Kylo suddenly couldn’t breathe. Tears burned into his eyes. He dropped his head. He couldn’t look Chewie in the eye.

“ _Give me one reason I shouldn’t kill you_ ,” Chewie snarled.

Kylo took a breath, then another before he could find his voice. “Rey.” His voice cracked even on the single syllable. “I can’t leave her alone again. If not for her, I’d want you to. If anything ever happens to her, if she ever has enough of me, I’ll come back so you can.”

Chewie and Maz went absolutely still.

Kylo jerked his head up and lunged to his feet. “What happened?” He took an aggressive step forward, crowding Maz back. “Tell me.”

“ _You act like that, boy, and we won’t tell you anything_ ,” Chewie said.

Kylo clenched his fists to keep from reaching for Chewie and just taking it out of his mind.

Maz watched him. “You know she came to Takodana hoping to contact the Resistance.”

“I received a holo from her,” Kylo said. “She found a contact.”

“ _So we were told_ ,” Chewie growled.

Kylo just waited, shaking with the strain of controlling himself.

“She didn’t find it through me,” Maz said. “I hear a whisper here, a murmur there, but where they are…” She shook her head. “I don’t know.”

“Who was it?” Kylo said.

Maz met his gaze unflinchingly. “Finn.”

“ _Finn_.” That mad edge crept into Kylo’s voice. “The _traitor_ took her?” He jerked his head up to glare at Chewie. “And you _let_ him?”

“ _I sent her to **you** when she asked_ ,” Chewie shot back. “ _The girl doesn’t need a keeper_.”

“We didn’t know about it. Finn didn’t say a word before, and neither did Rey,” Maz said. “She did something to her guards to make them sleep. They came to us to find out what we knew. They were… She pressed her lips tight and glared up at Kylo. “… _enthusiastic_ in their questioning. Since Finn was missing too, it didn’t take much to put together who she went with.”

Kylo clenched his fists tighter than they already were, struggling to convince himself this wasn’t the disaster it seemed. Finn was her friend. She _trusted_ him. He wouldn’t do anything to harm her.

“Only one small problem,” Maz added dryly. “Finn’s recent _distress_ at not knowing where the Resistance was or what happened to them.”

With a roar, Kylo jerked his lightsaber from his belt and ignited it. A huge, furry hand seized his wrist.

“ _ **Don’t!** ”_ the Wookie roared right in his face.

There weren’t many people who could physically restrain him. Chewie was one. The terrified rage ebbed enough Kylo could think. He deactivated his lightsaber.

Chewie still held his wrist tightly enough to grind the bones together. “ _Are you calm?”_

“No,” Kylo said. “But I won’t destroy anything.”

Chewie’s blue eyes bored into his. After a long, fraught moment, he let Kylo go.

“How long ago?” Kylo said.

“ _Eight_ _hours. It’s the only reason I replied to your signal_ ,” Chewie growled.

“If he isn’t taking her to meet the Resistance, where would he take her?” A bad thought occurred to him. “Hux?” he said, his voice rising. “ _Would he take her for the bounty?”_

The wall and floor panels began rattling. A light exploded, spraying sparks.

Chewie’s heavy hands came down on his shoulders. “ _Ben. Stop_.”

The command was familiar. Chewie and his mother had been the only ones who could calm him when his emotions started spiraling out of control. Maybe because they were the only ones who dared approach him at those times—Chewie because he was used to wild, temper-prone younglings; his mother because she was…well, because she was Leia Organa. And _nothing_ daunted Leia Organa.

Shuddering out a long breath, Kylo coiled in his power. He couldn’t, _couldn’t_ afford to lose control. Not if Rey needed him.

Maz had been keenly watching his pyrotechnics. “You wouldn’t have let her go without a way to contact her.”

Kylo gave her a withering look. “She doesn’t reply.”

She’d probably shut off the comm, knowing exactly how he’d react when he got the news.

Chewie left his hands on Kylo’s shoulders, his grip tight enough to remind him he’d better not lose control again. “ _Rey told me she has a connection with you_.”

“The bond doesn’t connect us at will—” He stopped, realizing what Chewie was suggesting. Kylo struggled to think. It was all he could do to maintain some semblance of calm and reason. “I can sense her…” Closing his eyes, he opened himself to the bond. “She’s calm. For now.” He ground his teeth. “She _trusts_ the traitor.”

“Can you tell where she is?” Maz said.

“I couldn’t when she was on Ahch-To. Now—” Kylo sensed along the bond again, the way he did when he searched for her when she was near. “Maybe. I’ll need to be at the controls.”

He looked to Chewie for permission. He could see the Wookie deliberating. Finally, Chewie grunted assent.

Kylo let Chewie lead the way. To his surprise, Chewie lowered his towering bulk into the co-pilot’s seat. Kylo ducked his head in acknowledgement of the courtesy and settled into the pilot’s chair.

The cockpit still vibrated with Han Solo’s presence. Kylo found himself shaking again. The viewport, the control panel blurred with tears. He ground his teeth, struggling to hold himself together, to be here, now. Not to see again the shock and pain on his father’s face, the lightsaber’s red glow staining his skin the moment before he fell into the abyss.

But _here_ and _now_ were the _Millennium Falcon_ , something Han had loved more and longer than any human soul. A soft, agonized keening came from Kylo’s throat. Aware of Chewie’s attention on him, Maz’s, he groped for the firm anchor of the bond. Rey’s brightness welled into the drowning darkness, stitching him back together again.

Faintly, beyond his sense of his father, he touched a remnant whisper of Rey. There was her stubborn determination, her soaring triumph, her simple joy, and he remembered—the _Falcon_ had carried her away from Jakku, her first step on the journey that would lead her to him.

His hands steadied and his breathing evened out. He kept his gaze fixed on the control panel, hating that Chewie and Maz should see his moment of weakness. Rey would tell him it wasn’t weakness—it was proof that he was still whole.

Maybe not whole, no. But not entirely broken.

Kylo settled his hands on the controls. They were like the code he’d keyed in to contact Chewie: the skill and knowledge there and waiting, even after all these years. Turning his attention inward to the bond, he slowly maneuvered the _Falcon_ , sensing for Rey at the other end.

Up, over his left shoulder. The _Falcon’s_ sublight engines thrummed softly as the ship came about. Finally, his sense of Rey lay straight ahead.

He looked out at the starfield beyond the viewport. “There. I can’t tell how far. Not yet.”

He clenched his jaw again. Without knowing how far, they couldn’t plot a hyperspace course. They’d have to take little jumps to likely destinations, pausing in between for Kylo to sense for Rey again. And if she was traveling…

It could take _days_.

Chewie leaned forward, studied the coordinates. “ _The Core_.”

 Maz stood by Chewie’s elbow. The two shared a look.

“ _We know where he took her_ ,” Chewie growled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Writing this made me think that Chewie might’ve been more a father-figure to Ben than Han was. Han would’ve had trouble relating to serious, sensitive Ben, and I think he would’ve been alarmed and intimidated by Ben’s Force abilities. They would’ve shared a love of flying, but not much else. I honestly don’t know how Chewie would’ve reacted to Ben’s Force abilities, but he’s more understanding, demonstrative and laid back and would have been a better fit temperamentally for Ben.
> 
> I'm going on vacation and won't be updating next week. Maybe the week after that, either-- I've caught up with myself, so it depends on how much writing I get done. Please forgive the delay.


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